


Don't Look Back

by samsg1



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cabin Fic, Canon Compliant, Episode: s07e13 Grace, Episode: s07e16 Death Knell, Episode: s07e17-18 Heroes, Episode: s07e21-22 Lost City, Episode: s08e07 Affinity, Episode: s08e18 Threads, Episode: s08e19-20 Moebius, F/M, Head Injury, Heavy Angst, Introspection, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s08e18 Threads, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:35:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28290996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsg1/pseuds/samsg1
Summary: Still suffering from her concussion, Sam runs away from the SGC to deal with her recovery and emotions after the events of ‘Grace’, questioning whether she still belongs in the military.An angsty start, but it will eventually become a Threads fic, because of course there aren’t enough of those!This story is a re-imagining of my previous story ‘Grace on Camera’ told from Sam’s POV this time, and with a completely different ending. You don’t need to read the original story beforehand, but there are small excerpts from it, so you’re welcome to do so first:https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277164/
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill, Samantha "Sam" Carter/Other(s), Samantha "Sam" Carter/Pete Shanahan
Comments: 88
Kudos: 86





	1. Confinement

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Grace on Camera](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277164) by [samsg1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsg1/pseuds/samsg1). 



> I really wish I had a sweet, fluffy Christmas fic to post for you this Christmas Eve, but this is what my muse demanded instead. There will be angst ahead, but there will be a happy ending, I promise :)
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are my own.

_“This is Major Samantha Carter of the United States Air Force vessel Prometheus. As the sole remaining crew member of this ship I feel compelled to keep a log of these events.”_

_“After being attacked by a hostile alien ship, I sustained an injury and lost consciousness. When I awoke, I found the ship devoid of all crew.”_

_\----_

_“As expected the hyperdrive was unable to form a stable window inside the nebula. I have sent out a distress signal detailing Prometheus' situation and our last known position in space. I know it could be hundreds of years before anyone hears it.”_

_“That said, Stargate Command was aware of our route home, and will undoubtedly do everything they can to mount a rescue, and, if any of the crew survived, I can only hope they will eventually send help as well. Therefore, I feel my best course of action is to settle in for the long haul.”_

_\----_

_“I've been trying to understand why the ship has been unable to jump into hyperspace. During my last jump attempt the hyperspace window seemed unable to stabilise enough for the ship to enter it."_

_“Bottom line is, until that changes, the Prometheus will remain trapped here, indefinitely.”_

_\----_

_“The effects of my head injury are getting worse. I'm not sure how much longer I can last.”  
\-----_

Sam awoke again to searing pain striking through her head. As her surroundings came into focus- confirming her to still be in the infirmary- she looked around to see not the Colonel keeping vigil this time, but her father.

“You made it, kiddo. I’m so proud of you,” he said fondly, beaming at his daughter.

“Just about made it back in one piece, Dad,” she managed to say, wincing at the volume of her own voice.

“Remember what I said, Sam,” he said, his expression suddenly turning serious. “You deserve to love someone, and be loved in return.”

_“Excuse me?”_

A flash of the Colonel’s harsh reaction to her mistakenly thinking he was a hallucination and calling him ‘Jack’ passed before her eyes. She hadn’t even had the chance to piece together yet that she was even on Earth at the time. She’d later been informed that she’d lost consciousness on the Prometheus and had been carried home early by two crew members by a Stargate discovered on the ship’s route home, which was set to take at least another three weeks before it finally made it home to Earth.

“Sam? Are you awake?” And with a flash of the curtain opening, her father disappeared, replaced by Janet’s friendly face. “Were you talking to someone?”

“No, uh, I guess I was talking in my sleep, or something,” she fumbled, screwing her eyes in pain at the intrusion of light from the rest of the infirmary, at which Janet apologized and left her to rest in semi-darkness once again. Photo-sensitivity, she’d already been reminded, was a common symptom of a concussion.

Sam wasn’t sure if it was pride or shame that was keeping her from admitting her symptom of seeing and hearing people that weren’t there, but a couple of days later and she had still decided to keep the occasional imaginary visits to herself. Her constant seething headache and unabating nausea had also rendered her unable to stare at a computer screen or even the page of a book for long, and following the last time Teal’c had vanished into thin air mid-conversation, becoming unsure of who was real or not, she had started to push away Daniel, the Colonel and Teal’c away by pretending to be asleep whenever she had any visitors. It wasn’t like she could focus on their conversations long enough to form coherent answers anyway.

And so, over the next few days, other than bathroom trips, CT scans, and feigning sleep in between real rest, she’d been left with little to do but stare at the grey ceiling above her and reluctantly reflect upon her experience.

Starting with the trip from Tagrea, she’d spent a total of two weeks aboard the Prometheus before waking up in the infirmary on Earth. But to her, it had genuinely felt more like two _months_. It had cost her such an incredible and intense mental effort to force herself to focus on fighting for her life and to work towards a solution aboard the ship amidst the severe headaches, nausea, memory lapses, as well as frequent losses of consciousness. So much so that she had genuinely never felt so mentally drained in her entire life. Even the several days of bed rest had barely to put a dent in the full-blown exhaustion she continually felt. Janet had assured her that tiredness was to be expected, and she knew that was simply the effect of the concussion that was causing her brain to quickly become overwhelmed by simple tasks, but being used to being in control, she had struggled to contain her frustration and anger when when she'd spent minutes fumbling over the temperature control of her shower. And when she’d needed Janet’s help to locate her misplaced keycard which had turned up in the place she’d originally searched, she'd completely lost her temper, taking it out on her friend. Now that she’d calmed down, she felt ashamed to recall the way she had yelled at Janet, remembering the shocked look on her face before she’d promptly taken her leave to retreat to her office.

It probably wasn’t helping her road to getting the all-clear that the mission report she’d finally been able to cobble together by her fifth day in the infirmary was uncharacteristically short. It would no doubt raise suspicion that her recovery was taking longer than expected, but the blinding headache caused from focusing on her laptop screen had been too great to manage typing anything more substantial. Not to mention her memory of her time spent alone on the ship still remained patchy at best. Yet, she’d been unable to swallow her pride and ask the General for an extension on the report’s due date, wanting to keep up the appearance of making a steady recovery. The longer she displayed severe symptoms, the longer Janet would surely keep her confined to the base, which as the days dredged on, was becoming a bleak thought. She itched so badly to get off the base and be free of the testing and scrutiny and expectations of the people around her.

One of those expectations was of returning to active duty. The General had made his last visit during mealtime when she had been unable to fake being asleep, and when the topic of how long it would be before she'd be ready to return to active duty had come up, the thought had made her stomach turn. She’d wanted to jump out of bed and run clear away of the mountain, never to return. As far as she was concerned, she’d just spent the last several weeks fighting for her life for weeks completely alone aboard that ship, and the thought of being expected to be up and at ‘em, ready to ship out on another mission to an unexplored planet across the galaxy as soon as possible, facing the unknown, being at risk of being left alone to face death again, was more than she could currently bear. If she was truly, truly honest with herself, for the first time in more than six years, she wasn't sure if she could face the thought of going through the gate again at all.

Nor at this rate could she face another day in the infirmary. The semi-darkness Janet had been keeping Sam in for her comfort was now creeping under her skin. The silence of the current night shift was adding to the reminder of being on the ship she’d worked so hard to escape from alive. The four concrete walls she was confined within were making her feel just as trapped as she’d been on the Prometheus. She’d pushed away her friends, and now she was all alone all over again. She knew it was her concussed mind playing tricks on her, but she could almost feel the room shudder just as the ship had creaked facing erosion from the nebula’s gases. She could still sometimes hear the buckling of metal bulkheads as they'd groaned under the strain of the nebula’s gases. Whenever the gate alarm sounded, she was reminded of the main system's alarm on the ship, blaring as the seconds had counted down to her death. And once, even, she'd imagined seeing the ceiling coming down towards her lower and lower, as though the mountain was burying her alive. She'd yelled out in a wild panic, at which Janet had appeared and the celining had instantly returned to normal height. Fumbling an excuse of having a nightmare, she thought of how she desperately ached to get out and feel the light of the sun on her skin. The constant semi-darkness of the past weeks was suffocating her, and she could feel negativity and depression sinking in. Undue resentment towards Janet for being able to go home after her shift was growing within her. As was resentment towards her superiors for expecting her to be able to jump back to work as always. A growing irritation towards the Air Force that she’d always highly respected, with its rules that were keeping her from having a normal life, was burrowing its way into her thoughts.

“It's time to let go of the things that prevent you from finding happiness. You deserve to love someone, and be loved in return.”

Had her father, or rather, her subconscious, meant letting go of the military? Or had they meant letting go of her feelings for the Colonel? Logically, she knew this negativity and questioning of her choices was merely a symptom of her head injury and confinement- after all, they had never presented as a problem that she'd acknowledged before. Surely she wouldn’t still be doubting herself and her life choices once she recovered? She desperately wanted to feel whole and herself again, to be able to trust her thought processes and judgement again, and she knew that being confined to the infirmary for days on end with nothing to do but stew in her incoherent addled-brain thoughts was not helping her recovery at all.

By the sixth day of her confinement, Sam’s frustration had reached its peak. Her teammates, thankfully, had made themselves scarce, and Sam was once again pleading with Janet to be allowed home. She had done so the day before but this time she refused to take no for an answer. After passionately insisting that she was fine and not a danger to herself, it looked as though she had finally won the argument.

“Okay fine, fine Sam. Honestly, you’ve been a worse patient than Colonel O’Neill on a bad day, and that’s saying something. I’m probably showing favouritism by letting you leave, but I’ll clear you-”

“Oh thank God. Thank you, Janet!”

“I’ll clear you,” she re-iterated with authority in her voice, “if you promise you’ll be back tomorrow for a CT scan. Let’s make it just after noon tomorrow so you have a chance to sleep in tomorrow if you need it."

"Okay."

"And don’t forget your psych evaluation with Dr. MacKenzie tomorrow-”

“Ugh.”

“Ah! No complaints. It’ll have been ten days since your injury, and General Hammond wants to know when you’ll be ready to return to the field.” Sam couldn’t help but let out a wince at that thought, but did her best to cover up her body’s betraying signal, which Janet seemed not to have noticed. “Actually, let me write this down for you in case your memory’s not quite in full-working order,” she said, removing a small notepad and pen from her blouse chest pocket. “MacKenzie’ll be doing some memory tests with you tomorrow, by the way” and she scribbled the memo down on the pad from her blouse pocket. “Oh and promise me Sam, no driving,” and she underlined something she’d just written twice on the paper as she spoke. ”Shall I ask one of the guys to drive you home?”

“No, ah, an Airman will be just fine,” she said. The thought of Daniel or even the Colonel wanting to come into her house and sit with her made her skin crawl. She was just itching to be home and alone and away from anything and frankly anyone to do with the SGC.

“Okay. I’ll arrange someone to pick you up from your home tomorrow at 11:20,” she said, writing another memo on the paper before handing it to her. Glancing at the paper, her eyes were instantly drawn to the “NO DRIVING” note in capital letters and doubly-underlined.

“Got it, thanks again Janet. Anything else?”

“Don’t make me regret my decision. Take it easy. And call me anytime if you need anything,” and she moved to take back the paper she’d given her, jotting something else on the paper.

“Janet, I know your phone number,” she said incredulously at seeing the numbers. “My brain isn’t that messed up you know,” and she did her best to hold a steady eye contact with the doctor who scrutinized her longer than usual with her shrewd doctor expression, before she sighed in defeat, waving her hand towards the door.

Sam couldn’t get out of that hospital gown and change into her civvies, submit her leave request form to the General, and leave the base fast enough.

\----

As the young Airman pulled away after making sure she’d successfully opened her front door, instead of going inside, Sam simply shut the door and rounded the back of her house to sit on her back deck for the first time in what was probably months, basking in the last hour of the sun’s rays, reveling in its warmth on her bare arms. As the sky began to gain a pink tinge from the steadily sinking sun, she admitted defeat as a chill ran through her skin- the summer clothes she’d had in the locker room weren’t adequate for the early Autumn chill that was now gripping the air. Finally entering her home, she picked up the tall stack of mail strewn on the doormat, dropping them on the dining table before rummaging through her freezer stash and finding an old tub of chilli rice.

By the time she was done eating, her decision was made. After emptying her bladder, she made her way to her bedroom, grabbed her favourite leather jacket from its hanger, pulling it clean over her plain short-sleeved shirt, grabbed some cash from the safety box she kept at the foot of her closet, then made her way to the front door, pulling off her sneakers in favour of her long boots, and grabbed her bike keys on the way out.

Door locked, she got her bike out of the garage, and not five minutes later she was off at high speed, turning west onto Route 24, chasing the sunset, and feeling freer and more herself than she had done the past ten days.


	2. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam takes refuge at her brother's house to recover and thinks about her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to all who celebrate!!!
> 
> Un-beta'd, all mistakes are my own.  
> Also, I know nothing about motorcycle riding or concussions, so sorry for any inaccuracies. Please just enjoy the ride!

“Sir, I thought I might find you here,” Janet said as she approached Colonel O’Neill, sat alone having lunch in the commissary.

“Doc?” he asked, looking up, mouth full of pie and fork in hand.

“I had an Airman arranged to pick Sam up from her house about half an hour ago for her follow-up but she wasn’t there.”

She watched as his expression immediately switched to one of alarm. With one large gulp, he cleared his mouth of the dessert, and set his fork down on the table with a clatter.

“She not clocked herself in on base?”

“No, Sir. I checked the logs. Her phone’s off, too.”

Jack stood up for action, his half-finished pie left forgotten on the tray as he exited the commissary calling behind him, “I’ll go check on her.”

“Thought you might, Sir.”

\----

Despite riding the entire night, rather than feeling tired or even hungry, she found herself bursting with energy and feeling rejuvenated as she pulled into a rest stop just outside of Flagstaff. The hot early Autumn sun blared, warming her entire body and feeding her soul. She hadn’t felt this energized since General Hammond had given her the go ahead to join the Prometheus’ journey home several weeks ago, not that she was going to spare another thought to that mission.

Pulling off her helmet and stashing it into the underseat compartment, she checked her watch to see that it was close to 10am. Praising herself for even remembering the meeting time with Janet when her short-term memory had been so poor the past week, she decided she ought to call in and fess up that she wouldn’t be making it back in time for her appointment. Reaching into her jacket pocket, she removed her cell phone to see to her surprise that the battery had gone dead, kicking herself that she hadn’t even thought to bring the charger. 

Just as her brain began to form the idea to use a payphone- she had Janet’s number memorized after all- a sudden wave of recklessness rushed through her in time with a surge of pain welling in her head. All Janet had done was confine her to what felt like a prison. She hadn’t helped her recovery at all. In fact, if anything, everything she had done had made her mental state worse. Not to mention the thought of having anything to do with the SGC was making her nausea return; the already constant drumming in her head revving up at the thought of returning to that grey infirmary room deep in the mountain. No, she didn’t want to hear Janet’s angry voice down the phone line. She didn’t want to be ordered back to the mountain. She didn’t want to face any repercussions. She didn’t want to be Major Carter at all. She just needed to be Sam. At least just for today. 

And on that notion, she decided to block out any further thought of the SGC, and settled in for a late breakfast at the rest stop cafe. Slowly savouring her diet soda, she musingly watched truckers come and go, enjoying listening to the dull rumbles of conversation and revving of engines. Soda gone, she filled her bike tank- paying by cash- and continued on, deciding on a whim to turn south onto Route 17 down towards Phoenix.

\----

“It’s not like the Major to deliberately skip a check-up.”

“To be honest she’s not been like herself the entire time she’s been back, Sir,” Jack supplied glumly.

“No, she hasn’t,” the General concurred. “You said her bike’s gone? Against Doctor Frasier’s direct advice regarding driving, I might add.”

“Yes, Sir. Not much had been touched in her house, either, it doesn’t even look like she even spent the night there. ”

“What makes you say that, Colonel?”

“Her shower room was dry, towels folded and unused. No signs that she’d made a coffee which she always drinks first thing, either, and there was only dinner leftovers in the sink, Sir.”

“I see. So you think she just took off soon after she arrived home?”

“That’s the most likely case, Sir.”

“And her phone is still off?”

“Yeah, I just just tried calling her again just now,” Daniel said as he jumped into the conversation, panting as he climbed up the spiral staircase. “Says it’s out of service range.”

“And you said she didn’t say anything to any of you about taking a leave of absence?”

“Not a word to any of us, Sir,” Jack confirmed.

“It’s not like Sam to have gone without even saying goodbye to any of us, but maybe she just needs time to herself to process what happened to her on the ship?” Daniel supplied, and a silence fell between the three men.

“Let me hear the second either of you hear anything,” the General finally said. “I’m going to see if we can get a hit on her credit card being used anywhere. Dismissed.”

\----

The views that afternoon as she passed south through the flat desert terrain of Arizona were staggering, and the clear sky a perfect hue of deep blue. To her delight the dusty highway was incredibly light on traffic and she rode on almost unabated, reveling in the freedom and enjoying the thrill of pushing her bike to its limit, far past the speed restriction. Enjoying the feel of easily zooming past the occasional vehicle she’d catch up to, she also felt invigorated by the shot of adrenaline she’d be rewarded with when she’d correctly calculate the timing to deftly dodge any oncoming vehicle recklessly just in the nick of time, laughing off the honking of angry horns. She was reminded of her days of flying in the Gulf as a fresh, young Lieutenant, rolling in the hot Middle Eastern skies. She’d never forget the feeling of finally being truly free and happy following her years of intense study and hard work proving herself to the men higher up, as well as escaping the pressure and expectations of her headstrong military father. 

\-----

Having just finished putting the kids to bed, Abby Carter was immersed in clearing away the plates from the dishwasher when the sound of the doorbell caught her by surprise. Even more to her surprise was the state of the disheveled-looking visitor looking sheepish on the doorstep. A shadow of a bruise shone on the woman’s forehead decorated with discoloured butterfly stitches. Her windswept, dirty blonde hair stuck out in all directions. Her eyes- while friendly- looked lackluster, and purple bags along with several more lines than she remembered from her last visit adorned them. And as she embraced her sister-in-Law, she took note of the shakiness of her arms, as well as the appearance of her chapped, dry hands clutching a sandy, dust-covered motorcycle helmet.

By the time her husband had gotten home late from his work party, Sam Carter had already long-passed out cold asleep on the couch, unable to be roused.

\----

Over the next few days, Sam immersed herself in her brother’s family life. Her brother and sister-in-Law had seemingly picked up on Sam’s silence on work matters, quickly deciding to drop their line of questioning about her head injury, instead each taking a couple of days off work as well as taking the kids out of school to spend some much-needed time with their usually absent Aunt. Sam found herself laughing unrestrained at her young niece and nephew’s antics the entire week as they hit the science museum, SeaWorld, the cinema and roamed shopping malls together. The hot home-cooked meals shared around the family dinner table soothed her, as did being called ‘Aunty’ and ‘Sam’, and not ‘Major’ or ‘Ma’am.’ She loved the feeling of being unconditionally loved, with no pressure to have to be okay or in control. Her brother’s house was a haven where she could be herself- just Sam- and felt incredibly grateful to have mended her relationship with her brother after their years of separation. It almost felt as though she had regained a lost part of her childhood with her mother after all these years.

\-----

Janet frowned at the unknown number displayed on her ringing work phone, before picking up the receiver.

“Doctor Frasier, who’s calling?”

“Urm, hello? Sorry, I’m not sure whose number this is supposed to be…,” came a nervous-sounding female voice. “I, err, found this number on a piece of paper-”

_’It couldn’t be!’_

“Sam!? I mean, do you know Samantha Carter? Is she alright!?” she demanded, almost frenzied with worry and relief at the same time.

“Err yes,” came the shocked female voice down the phone. “I’m Abby Carter, her sister-in-Law.” 

“Oh thank God! Is she there with you? We’ve all been so worried about her. I’m Janet Frasier, her doctor, but I’m also her friend.”

“Hi, yes, she arrived here in San Diego on Wednesday night. It seems that she’d ridden on her bike all the way here non-stop, but she wouldn’t say why and wouldn’t explain her head injury either. What happened?”

“There was- a lab accident,” she started, taking care to be vague about the details. As far as Sam’s family knew, Sam was working as an astrophysicist on deep space radar telemetry. “She received a severe concussion. We became concerned when she didn’t show up for a scheduled medical exam.”

A snort and ‘Who’d have thought the Air Force golden girl would go AWOL?’ could be heard being said in the background by a man’s voice.

“Shut up, Mark,” Janet heard the woman snap before saying, “Sorry about that. What do I do? She’s in the shower and doesn’t know I’m calling. I just found a piece of paper with times on and this phone number in her pants pocket when doing laundry.”

“I’m glad you called. Really. There are a lot of worried people back here. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she seems quite happy. Avoids talking about certain things, but I’d say she seems okay.”

“Is she displaying any symptoms of headaches, memory loss, or nausea?”

There was a pause, and Janet could hear murmured whispers as Abby conferred with her husband.

“Not that we can tell, no.”

“Good. Thanks for calling, Abby. I won’t tell her that you called without her knowledge when she gets back. I’m sure she’ll contact us when she’s ready, but if she doesn’t, would you mind calling me to let me know when she leaves San Diego, or if she tells you of any of her plans?”

“Yes of course, Doctor.”

“Okay, look after Sam for us.”

“We will. Bye,” and the line disconnected. 

‘It’s a miracle you didn’t crash your bike and get yourself killed, Sam,’ she thought to herself. ‘Honestly, riding for twenty-four hours non-stop with a concussion? What were you thinking?’ and she replaced the phone receiver and left her office to go tell General Hammond the good news.

\----

Unable to sleep, Sam lay in the guest bedroom reflecting upon the past week or so of rest and good family times. They had certainly been fun and freeing, but had also given Sam plenty of food for thought. 

_“For as long as she was alive, your mother showed me a world beyond just ambition and career. She gave my life meaning, and balance, and it was my honour to love her for the short time she was with me.”_

Mark, she’d come to see, seemed genuinely happy. She had no doubt that her brother’s life had meaning and balance, as her father had put it, too. He’d always made it clear that he hated the Air Force, and Sam had always disagreed with his stance so fervently, but now she couldn’t help but envy his simple, picture-perfect normal life. A safe and fulfilling nine-to-five office job, two wonderful and well-behaved kids, a kind and doting partner, and most of all, he was blissfully ignorant of the galactic war they were embroiled in. Mark didn’t have to face death and the unknown on a daily basis. He’d never had to escape from hell prisons, or crash-landed in a spaceship, or worked himself to death to rescue loved ones left behind. He didn’t have the brass barking orders at him, forcing him to build deadly weapons, and he certainly didn’t frequently carry the fate of the world on his shoulders, with entire rooms of people looking at him and expecting him to come up with the answer to save the day… 

The strain and responsibility and hardships of the job she had always loved so passionately was catching up to her. She still looked back on her older days on SG-1 with fondness: gallivanting around the galaxy wide-eyed, making new and incredible discoveries every week, miraculously escaping death despite inexplicably slim odds. But now, or rather, ever since they’d lost Daniel two years ago, something had changed. She’d had to face the fact that they were no longer invincible. The situation had been out of her control, and no amount of calculating or rewriting the laws of physics was going to prevent his death. Watching her best friend slowly die a horrific and painful death before her eyes, unable to save him herself with the healing device had caused some of the magic of her line of work to fade. Her resentment towards the Colonel’s cold reaction to his loss, too, had diminished their relationship, and the team dynamic afterwards had never been the same since. Daniel had later returned, but not before the Colonel, too, had almost been lost forever, kidnapped in his own body by a Tok’ra and tortured to death over and over by Ba’al. Teal’c, too, had just barely escaped death, losing Junior along the way, which had cost him a measure of self-confidence as well as a loss of physical strength that he would likely never regain now that he was fully human. She herself had always been so self-assured that she was just as strong and capable as any fellow soldier she’d ever worked with, but now, she felt inexplicably vulnerable and frail. She couldn’t shake the dread that she was next in line to finally lose her life to this war.

_You deserve to love someone, and be loved in return._

Her father’s words had been a smack in the face. She’d always convinced herself that the family she’d surrounded herself with- her teammates, Cassie and Janet- was enough. That she was a strong, intelligent, independent woman who didn’t need a romantic life when she was already married to her work. But for whatever reason, hearing those words from her father, even when it hadn’t even really been him, had hit home, and hit home _hard_.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had a love life at all since the disaster that had been Jonas, but she had to admit that all the men she’d had encounters with hadn’t fared well. All the while, she’d done all she could to avoid falling for her Commanding Officer, and yet she hadn’t been able to help it. Sure, she’d known she was in trouble the moment she’d caught sight of him across the Briefing Room the day of her transfer from the Pentagon. He was exactly her type- older, a man in authority, confident, tall, handsome, slick sense of humour... But it wasn’t meant to have spiralled into a problem because the Stargate program was only supposed to have been a temporary assignment while they assessed the cause of the sudden infiltration by aliens in Cheyenne Mountain. Who could possibly have foreseen and believed that she would end up still working side-by-side on the same team with that man almost _seven years_ later?! And on the flagship unit of all teams, right in front of everyone’s eyes and right under the Pentagon’s nose. There was zero possibility of floundering the regs and getting away with it. The Colonel was the absolute one person she could never have. She’d known after the Zatarc incident and Thera and Jonah that despite discovering her feelings were reciprocated, she’d had no choice but to quash those feelings aside for the greater good and for the war. And sure, for three years it worked: she’d always remained perfectly professional outwardly- a perfect, model soldier and second-in-command. But something about her experience on the Prometheus had cracked a dent in that box of feelings she’d had to stuff the Colonel into. The whack on her head had more than shaken her brain, she’d lost that belief that somehow everything would end well and that they would naturally end up together. Negative thoughts were taking a hold of her. She couldn't see an end in sight of this war, and she could no longer cling to false hope that they would even survive to see its end. 

_”What if I quit the air force? Would that change anything or is it just an excuse?”_

Should she simply retire before the war kills her? 

_”I would never ask you to give up your career.”_

The Colonel more than likely wouldn’t let her retire, not for him at least. Nor would the brass at the Pentagon let her go, anyway. She was too needed. Too valuable. She scolded herself for having been so blind as to let herself get in too deep. 

_”I'd let you go right now if I knew.”_

"Hah," she scoffed into the still night at the memory of saying that. She really had been good at lying to herself.

\----

Following another fun day with the Carters’, the next night, Sam once again lay in bed awake having trouble sleeping. But this time she was struck by the clarity of her thoughts. She hadn't even noticed until now, but the brain fog she’d been slumped in for the past two weeks had at some point lifted, and she finally felt truly like herself again. She could feel her brain engaging adeptly, and now that she thought about it, she noticed that she hadn’t had any trouble focusing on anything that day at all. 

As if trying to catch up on lost time, she found that she couldn’t stop her thoughts from racing at light speed. Inspiration for improving propulsion efficiency in the 303 line. A way of better integrating the Asgard shielding they’d received last year. A mental schematic for a better hull design to improve power flow popped into her head; idea after idea just kept pouring into her brain over the next several hours, and by the time the sun had risen, she knew where she needed to go next.


	3. Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam decides to spend some time at R&D in Area 51 to try to get her head back in the game, and deals with her PTSD with the help of a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are excerpts of dialogue from my related story ‘Grace on Camera’, but the story reads just fine even if you haven’t read it.

“General Hammond! General Hammond, Sir!” 

George was taken aback by the technician’s abrupt appearance into his office, causing him to knock several reports off his desk that he’d been in the middle of signing.

“Sergeant, I would appreciate it if you would knock first.”

“Sorry, Sir,” he said, panting from his apparent haste to deliver the news. “But Major Carter is on line three for you.”

George forgot all about dismissing his aide and picking up the fallen reports in his hurry to pick up the phone.

“Hammond.”

“Sir, it’s Major Carter.” 

He felt such immense relief at hearing her steady voice over the phone. He’d known the Major since she was a child and had never once heard anything from Jacob about her ever running away. Her taking off like that had been so out of character; she’d always been the type to face problems face on, even as a little girl. Deciding that if he wanted her to return soon, now was not the time to reprimand her, so he took the gentle approach to his questioning.

“Major, it’s such a relief to hear your voice. We’ve all been so worried about you down here since you missed your appointments with Doctors Frasier and MacKenzie, and we couldn’t get hold of you,” he said, deliberately making it sound as though this was the first contact they’d received regarding her whereabouts, knowing she was unaware her sister-in-Law had called the previous day.

“I’m so sorry Sir, I guess it was the effects of my concussion. I just needed to clear some things in my head... I just had to get away.”

“Where are you?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“I ended up going to stay at my brother’s. He lives in San Diego.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re in safe company, then.” Glad she was being truthful, too, he thought.

“I’m not in any trouble Sir, am I?”

He had to hold back a chuckle. Of course she would ask that. He probably wouldn’t have had the heart to tell her right now even if she had been, but luckily for them both she hadn't officially broken any military protocol.

“Well, your departure was unorthodox when you were fully aware that Doctor Frazier and Doctor MacKenzie were expecting to see you the next day, but since _officially_ you were on leave, which I had authorized, then no, you are not.” He’d leave it to Doctor Frasier to yell at her about riding her bike against her medical advice, as well as ditching her appointments.

“I see, thank you Sir.” He could almost feel her sense of relief pouring through the phone. “In that case, the reason I’m calling is I have a request to make.”

“Oh? So I take it you’re not planning on coming home yet?”

“Actually, Sir, with your permission, I was hoping you could arrange to have me temporarily assigned to Area 51.” Well that certainly took him by surprise.

“You’re still on leave for just under another two weeks. Are you sure? We all understand if you need more time to recuperate before returning to active duty.”

He practically heard her shudder as she fell silent.

“Or… perhaps you’re looking for a change of pace? Testing the waters at R&D before deciding when or whether to return to duty here?” he asked, trying to rescue the turn in conversation. He could tell that she was distressed at the thought of returning to the SGC and he didn’t want to push her away.

“Something like that, Sir, I guess…” she eventually managed before trailing off again, presumably in deep thought. Clearly her time aboard the Prometheus had affected her a lot more than she’d let on after her return. He’d already surmised that her brief mission report had been incomplete. Hopefully after her return to the SGC- whenever that may be- he’d get some answers, but for now all he could do was be supportive of her plan.

“I understand, you’ve been through a lot. Take all the time you need, Major. I’ll let Area 51 know you’re coming. I’m sure General Vidrine will be over the moon to have you there, he’ll no doubt put you to work on the BC-303 project full-time.” 

“Sounds perfect to me, Sir,” and he was relieved to hear that it sounded like she was smiling. Well, if burying herself in science had the chance of getting her head back in the game then he was one hundred percent behind her.

“When do you think you’ll get there? I’ll need to let Vidrine know when to expect you.”

“I’ll leave my brother’s tomorrow morning, so I guess I’ll be there by around 1800 hours.”

“Understood, everything’ll be ready for you by then.”

“Thank you Sir. I really appreciate it. And, say hi to the guys and Janet for me, please.”

“Will do, Major. You take care of yourself.”

"Yes, Sir."

\-------------

“Sam, seriously, don't be too hard on yourself, and just know we’re always here anytime you need a place to crash.”

“Thanks so much Abby,” she said, giving her Sister-in-Law a squeeze. “You’ve been so wonderful. And next time I’ll try not to pass out on your couch for over half a day.”

“Yeah, please do. The kids really freaked when they saw you in the morning,” her brother chuckled, replacing his wife’s embrace and giving her a big hug before pulling away with a more serious expression. “And here’s my friend’s number in case you change your mind about contacting him,” he said, handing her a piece of paper.

“Mark,” she said, rolling her eyes, “you know I said I’m not really into the whole dating scene right now.”

“I know, but if you change your mind, Pete’s a really great guy, and he only lives an hour away from your place. Think about it, Sis.”

“Okay, I will,” she said, stuffing the paper into her clean pants’ pocket. “I love you. I’m gonna miss you all, and can I just say that I have the best niece and nephew in the world,” she said beaming.

“Yeah, they’re gonna be so disappointed when they come home from school and you’re not here anymore,” Abby said wistfully.

“Give them another big hug from me. Thanks for everything guys, I really owe you both,” she said as she hopped on her bike, revved the engine, and, giving her brother and sister-in-Law and their greeting card-perfect house one last look, sped off down the road to her next destination.

\----------

“This new design has a few advantages over the Prometheus. The more advanced alien technologies will be integrated into the original design and built-in rather than tacked on after the fact. When the Prometheus gets back, our priority will be backwards-engineering the Asgard shielding and powerflow upgrade to be included in the new design."

“Well, Major, you’ve only been here a week and you’re already upheaving our entire Earth fleet project,” General Vidrine said as he scanned the schematics in his hand, eyebrows raised in surprise and admiration. He was certainly grateful that the Major had had herself re-assigned here, even if it was only temporarily.

“Yes, Sir,” she said, beaming with pride.

“This design looks like it has great potential. If it pans out, at this rate, the Prometheus will be the last of the BC-303 model.”

“Yes, Sir, could be. I’m afraid we’ll be needing more raw trinium and naquadah for the increased hull size. How are the naquadah shipments coming?”

“The supply coming in from P3X-403 is steady, and the negotiations SG-11 is working on with the inhabitants of P4C-877 to start operation on the abandoned mines found near their city seem to be progressing well. I’m hopeful we should be able to keep up with demand.”

“That’s great news, Sir. And when is the Prometheus scheduled to make it here?”

“Colonel Ronson sent us a message during their last cool-down, looks like they only have one last jump before they reach Earth, so the Prometheus’ll finally be home in about eleven hours,” he said, checking his watch. “So about zero-hundred hours. I’m sure you’ll be eager to help with repairs, but I want you to leave that entirely to the team here. I want your focus to be on the design for the new 304 line.”

“Yes, Sir.”

\-----

The return of the Prometheus was a huge ceremonious affair. Despite being after midnight, almost all of the staff working at R&D had stayed on-site to welcome back the Prometheus after her almost year-long absence. 

The landing went without a hitch, and Sam watched as the fatigued crew disembarked from the bedraggled ship to huge rounds of applause by the scientists working there. Champagne bottles appeared from nowhere, and there was huge merriment in the air as bottles were popped, glasses passed around, and the commissary must have prepared a feast because Sam was surprised to see she was suddenly surrounded by dishes of food. Last to exit the ship was Colonel Ronson, who was met by the largest cheer of them all. After receiving several handshakes and pats on the back, as well as a stiff salute from the General, he caught Sam’s eye and made his way to her, shaking her hand before pulling her into a large hug. 

“Glad to see you up and around, Major," he said, stepping away and taking in her appearance. "I must say you’re looking much better than the last time we saw you.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said abashedly, recalling excusing herself from duty before blacking out in front of everyone on the Bridge.

“We all owe you our lives. I never got the chance to thank you,” he said, smiling genuinely.

“There’s no need to thank me, Sir,” she said, pushing away his gratitude. She’d always felt uncomfortable receiving praise when she’d just been doing her job.

“Don’t be so modest, Sam,” and he directed his attention to the crowd, many already watching them, and raised his voice loudly so all could hear. “Let’s hear it for Major Samantha Carter, without whom the entire crew of the Prometheus’s lives would have been lost!”

And to her embarrassment, everyone turned to look at her and burst into the largest applause yet. Screams of whoops and cheers of Major Carter’s name filled the vast hangar bay, echoing all around. In spite of herself, despite blushing furiously having been forced into the centre of attention, she couldn’t help but break into a smile. It had after all been a rough recovery, and she decided she'd allow herself to enjoy the attention.

An hour later, as the impromptu party started winding down, with tipsy, yawning scientists and personnel saying their goodnights, Sam couldn’t help board the docked Prometheus. She’d been wanting to set a diagnostic on the retrofitted Alkesh engine to run overnight to see how it had fared, and whether it would have applications if they could scale the technology up to the size of a 303 or hopefully a 304 ship. They'd lost the Prometheus' original Goa'uld hyperdrive engine in orbit of Tagrea, and they hadn’t been able to increase the acquired pint-sized Alkesh engine’s efficiency as it was with the limited materials they'd had on the planet. But hopefully now it was back on Earth with the full resources of R&D and access to some of the best minds on the planet, they might not even need the Asgard hyperdrive they’d been asking their grey allies for for months.

Deep in thought about her plans and designs, she was halfway to the engine room before she recognized how completely silent the ship had become. The sounds of the remainder of the celebrations outside had long been left behind, now blocked out behind several layers of trinium-alloy walls, and she couldn't help notice the eerie shadows cast along the corridors by the powered-down lights.

Her breath hitched as her body sprang to attention, sensing danger, and her mind couldn’t help but jump back to her time being trapped on the ship in the nebula.

She reached a hand unconsciously to her forehead where there was now nothing but a pale blue tinge marking where her injury had been. ‘I’m better. I escaped,’ she told herself firmly. But her logic was failing her, her brain was betraying her, and she could feel the walls closing in on her as a rush of pain spliced through her head.

“It’s not real!” she called out to no one.

A chuckle could be heard from around the corner. She froze.

“Grace?” she whispered.

“Eager as ever to get to work, I see?” and Colonel Ronson rounded the corner, still chuckling to himself. Then he stopped in his tracks, apparently reading the expression of alarm that must have been playing on her face. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Err, err-,” she stumbled, unable to reign in her sudden panic.

“It’s past zero-one hundred hours, you should be turning in for the night, Sam.”

“I know, I-” she said, eyes darting wildly around the corridor. Her mind raced with excuses and lies, but, taking a steadying breath and focusing on the Colonel’s kind eyes, she made the decision to be honest. “I was looking forward to taking a look at the systems, but... I wasn’t expecting to feel, well, anxiety, at being back aboard,” she finished, looking down in shame.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he said, taking a few steps toward her, but hesitating to touch her. “It _is_ admittedly a bit creepy when it’s quiet and half-dark. And it seems you went through a lot last time you were on board.”

She nodded, appreciating the Colonel’s understanding 

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

He gave another chuckle and said, “You know, you can drop the “Sir”, Sam. Call me Will. You’re not in my chain of command, and we’re friends, right?"

"Okay, Will. Thanks."

"That's better. Anyway, what are you even doing in Area 51? I was certainly surprised to see you here.”

Sam met his chuckle with her own nervous laugh.

“Well, that’s kind of a long story, actually…,” she began before trailing off into silence, unsure whether she wanted to share her real reason for ending up here.

“Wow, that _was_ a long story,” he said after the pause, laughing, and at the sound of his voice and the sight of his good-natured expression, Sam could feel her anxiety lifting. Colonel Ronson, or rather, Will, had always been good to her, and they’d had a good laugh in the run-up to reaching the nebula. He could be a very strict commander at times, plunging the crew into battle drills at unexpected times, always trying to keep the crew on their toes and battle-prepared. But at other times he could also be a cool and relaxed commander, leaving the crew to figure out solutions themselves without barking orders at them constantly, joking with the senior officers in the mess in between shifts. In fact, if she let herself think it, his personality and sense of humour rather reminded her of Colonel O’Neill, which gave her an unconscious sense of comfort. And while she’d always maintained a professional distance between them on previous missions on the ship, she realised that if she relaxed a little and stopped being such a rigid soldier always keeping fellow officers at arm’s length, she could imagine Will becoming a good friend. 

“Sorry, I guess I’ll have to fill you in another time,” she said, smiling. Then, sensing slight awkwardness at the possibility of a Colonel and a Major being caught together alone in the dark corridor this time of night, she decided she better end the exchange. “It is late, though. I guess it would be for the best if I turn in and wait until tomorrow to have a look at the ship systems.”

“Actually, Sam, before you turn in, the reason I followed you onto the ship was that I wanted to show you something, and I think it would be better if I show you now before the engineers and eggheads show up tomorrow. Well, current egghead notwithstanding, of course,” and added, giving her a wink and another chuckle before beckoning her further along the corridor. Wow, he really did remind her of Colonel O’Neill, she thought, and she could feel her heart rate quickening as they took a turn away from the engine room and headed towards the bridge, and she didn’t think it was simply caused by the unease of being on the ship again. 

As they walked together in mostly comfortable silence along the darkened, still corridors, Sam forced herself to push through the wave of nausea that hit as they reached the deserted bridge. The looming red lights from the wall panels created an eerie atmosphere, while the green lights of the consoles cast a sickening green hue over the room. Instantly reminded of the green gas cloud that had adorned the towering windows outside the last time she had been on the bridge, she faltered, leaning against the commander’s chair.

Will noticed her movement and threw her a concerned look before asking, “Are you okay?”

She forced herself to calm and reply as steely as she could muster.

“Yeah, it’s just a bit hard to be here again.” She looked up at the towering windows now showing the darkened concrete walls of the outside hangar bay, and forced herself to recall that she was safely on Earth. “Last time I was here, we were still in the nebula.”

“Right, of course," he said, and Sam appreciated the moment he was allowing her to recover before he said, "Come and sit here,” indicating the seat at navigation. Sam took the seat as instructed, wondering if he was going to show her the ship’s route home, but watched on in surprise as the Colonel accessed the ship’s logs.

They weren’t going to be watching her log of her time on the ship, where they? She wasn’t sure if she could face watching herself in that state, but pushed herself to continue watching as Ronson selected a date from two weeks ago, and she knew immediately from the small thumbnail he was selecting that she wouldn’t like what was to be shown.

“My log?”

“Yes. After you lost consciousness the only way we could ascertain what had happened between the alien ship’s attack and our return on board was from the ship’s records of your attempts to engage the engines and hyperdrive, all the diagnostics you'd run, and of course, the ship’s log.”

“I had a bad concussion, I’m not sure how coherent I managed to document my time aboard the ship,” she said, embarrassed at the thought of what she might have said.

“Yeah, there was a clip of you just munching on a power bar,” he said amusedly.

“A power bar?”

“Yeah, can't say that was a particularly log entry. Amusing, though.”

“For you maybe,” she groaned, leaning her elbows on the console and burying her face in her hands in embarrassment.

“And the one with you stopping mid-sentence to yell at an invisible Daniel to shut up was quite funny, too...” he jested.

“Will, please, I don’t think I want to know what other crazy things I did while suffering from my head injury,” she said.

“Actually, that’s the thing, I think you’ll want to see this particular one before any of the techs do,” he said kindly, tapping on a log and opening it up. “I think it’s this one.”

“Oh god, I look terrible,” she said as he double-tapped on a file. She studied her awful appearance in the small, still image that he'd selected. She looked utterly exhausted. Dried, darkened blood decorated her forehead. Her face was incredibly pale, and her hair was scattered in all directions.

“If it makes you feel better we all probably looked terrible being held by the aliens, too.”

“What happened to you all on the alien ship, by the way? I never heard.”

“Actually none of us have any memory of while we were being held captive.”

“Nothing at all? Oh wow. I kind of wish I didn’t remember anything of my time on the ship, either.”

“Sam, I meant to say earlier, but I’m so sorry you got left behind. I know Colonel O’Neill’s gonna kill me when he sees me, and I deserve it. It’s been eating me up this whole time. It shouldn’t have happened and I’m one hundred percent responsible for whatever bad experience you had while alone on this ship.”

“Will, it’s okay. And obviously it turned out to be a good thing. But I’m responsible, too, I’m the one who wanted to take the detour to see the cloud.”

“But still, I’m sorry for my large part in what happened.”

“And I’m sorry Colonel O’Neill is probably going to kick your ass,” she joked, earning a hearty chuckle from the Colonel.

“Yes, he certainly is. So, ready to watch?”

She nodded and took a deep, bracing breath. 

'Ready as I’ll ever be,' she thought to herself. She’d already come to the conclusion that she’d have to stop avoiding thinking about what had happened to her before she could move on with her life. She needed to learn to accept what had happened to her before she could begin to feel ready to rejoin SG-1. As awful as it would be reliving what had happened to her by video, it might end up being healing, she thought.

At her nod, Ronson hit the play button and the screen sprang to life. The bridge was instantly filled with the blaring sound of the main alarm, making her jump and panic.

At her reaction, Will immediately paused the video, and the bridge once again fell into silence.

“The alarm?”

“Yeah.”

“Don't blame you. It does get rather grating after a while, doesn’t it? Maybe I’ll get the engineers to change it,” he said.

“Maybe I’ll change it myself tomorrow,” she said half-jokingly. “Okay, let’s watch this video and get it over with.”

She watched as Will hit the play button again.

“Inner hull breech in less than ten minutes,” came her quiet voice, well contrasted by the blaring sound of the alarm ringing out from the video again. Sam was surprised to see herself with such a grave, yet strangely calm expression. She looked like she’d given up. Sifting through her memories, she found that she couldn't remember making this log entry.

“I looked at this nebula through a telescope for years, and now I’m here,” she heard herself say almost whimsically. She couldn’t believe she was even smiling like this when she was minutes from death. Her head must have been seriously messed up.

“I don’t remember this,” she quietly told Will, who nodded back to her, keeping his attention on the video.

“Some nebulae become nurseries for future stars,” she continued on-screen. “I’d like to think that my matter might live on powering a future star. I think I’d like that ending.” 

And they watched as they saw her eyes roll and her head nod forward before she caught herself, jolting upright.

“I know, Teal’c,” she murmured. “I just can’t stay awake.”

It was startling to her to see her talking to thin air, a strange confirmation that she had indeed imagined everyone she remembered speaking to on the ship. Then she saw as she startled and straightened up in the chair. 

“I’m sorry, I’m trying,” she said, presumably to the imaginary Teal’c, and sniffed. “Thank you for being here with me.”

It was upsetting to her to see herself like this. So helpless and facing death alone. She couldn’t believe she’d managed to come up with the idea of the hyperspace bubble when she’d been in this state, on the brink of unconsciousness like this. She looked at Will, who simply indicated that she keep watching.

They heard the ship give a loud rumble and they saw her shaking her in her seat- the very chair, she realised, that she was sitting in now. 

“Why do we always wait until it’s too late to tell people how we really feel about them?” they heard her whisper over the creaking of the ship and ringing alarms.

She held her breath as her stomach gave an awkward lurch. Surely she wouldn’t have said anything… anything about the Colonel, would she? She knew she'd suffered a bad head injury, but surely not even then, right? But then, why else would Will be showing her this? She wanted to close her eyes and block out hearing what she might be about to say-

“I hope the Colonel-” 

And the next second she saw herself snap back out of her seat to dodge as static sparks rained down on her from overloading electrical circuits overhead. Then the ship gave a magnificent lurch, throwing her out of her seat off-screen below, and the video ended- presumably disrupted by the damage to the ship- and the real bridge fell back into silence.

Sam felt a sting of tears in her eyes. She was overwhelmed by a rush of emotions running through her. Reliving facing death again, seeing herself so weak, the shame of what she’d confessed being heard by a fellow officer in the Air Force...

“I’m gonna go ahead and assume you meant Jack?” he asked gently, breaking the silence.

“Sir, how many people have seen this?” she asked, choosing to go back to referring him by his title to gain some semblance of control over the situation.

“Only myself and Major Gant, but I can vouch that she would never tell anyone.”

There was another silence as Sam tried to reign in her emotions.

“You’re in love with him.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. 

Even more tears welled in her eyes, and she had to look up to keep them from falling.

“Sam, I’m not going to tell anyone,” she heard him say softly. “But obviously we can’t leave this video to be seen,” and she shook her head to indicate her agreement. Wiping her eyes in one swift motion, she returned her gaze to the keyboard and began working to erase the file.

“I’ll have to erase the backup file, too,” she said while working, Ronson crouching quietly beside her watching as she worked. “Done.”

“Good,” he said, before meeting her eyes. “Tell me, does he know?”

Sam’s mind jumped back to the Zatarc incident, and then to their brief conversation as Jonah and Thera.

“Yes,” she said slowly. “I think he does.”

“And does he feel the same way?”

_”I care about her, a lot more than I’m supposed to.”_

Wiping away a couple more tears that had escaped, she answered, “He did, at least… I don’t know if he still feels that way anymore.”

She saw Ronson’s eyebrow raise, before saying, “Well he’d be crazy to let go of someone like you.”

_”I'd let you go right now if I knew.”_

“It doesn’t matter, nothing can happen until something changes. Either the end of the war, or… until one of us quits.”

“Is that why you’re here? In Area 51?” he asked gently.

“I… I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Speaking as a friend, and as Jack’s friend, too, I think you both need to talk about this. Forget the regs, you both have the world's fate on your shoulders, and I’d feel a lot better knowing the SGC’s flagship officers had their heads on straight.”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Hey, you single-handedly saved my entire ship. Compared to that, this is a piece of cake.”

 _Cake._ How a single word could stop her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, I must say that before I started writing this chapter I did not expect to end up shipping Sam and Colonel Ronson! I had to work hard to reign in my writing to make sure this remained an S/J fic! XD
> 
> Hope you're enjoying this so far, we're about half way through the story (that is unless the ending ends up going longer than planned)!


	4. Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betad, all mistakes are my own.  
> Also, I don't really know anything about Air Force op histories, I just kinda used google and embellished. It's just fiction.

Over the next week, Colonel Ronson remained at Area 51 to oversee that the repairs on his ship were going well, and successfully submitted his completed mission report after piecing together the gap with the aliens with Sam’s help. He and his crew had also finally been cleared following close observation and endless tests to prove that the aliens hadn’t manipulated or made any permanent changes to them. Most had returned to their respective homes and families, though many of his engineers had opted to stay on to assist with repairs, for which he was grateful. Who knew her systems better than those who had seen her in battle and had been keeping her afloat the entire journey back to Earth?

Weary following his debrief with the Four-Star General, which had ended up becoming a four-hour meeting, he decided he’d stop by Sam’s lab and pass on the good news that a budget of $7 billion dollars had been approved and would be set aside for the new ship, and that Sam would be given the honour of naming the new ship.

“Vidrine doesn’t want you to leave, you know.”

“I know. And I’m really enjoying being here.”

“Are you considering staying on long-term?”

“I don’t know, Will. I’ve spent the last six years risking my life on unexplored planets. Why am I hiding in a lab here now?”

She watched as he became pensive, before his eyes darkened in memory.

“When I was a fresh Captain flying in Operation El Dorado Canyon, my plane was hit. I must have blacked out because next thing I knew I was feet wet and bearing down into the Mediterranean. Just barely had time to send out my coordinates before I jettisoned. The salt water fudged my radio, and I just had to cling to my cockpit seat and float in the silence until rescue came. In all the chaos of the operation it took them more than 18 hours to find me. When I saw a ship coming I didn’t even know if it was friendly or foe. I’d never been so terrified.”

“Wow,” was all she could say. Seeing Colonel Ronson in full-form on the Prometheus, a confident commander and always coolly in control, it was hard to imagine him being a scared, young airman shot down in Libiya.

“Nothing compared to the scrapes that SG-1 seems to get into every other week, of course,” he waved off modestly. “But lying in that hospital bed being treated for dehydration and burns, I felt like I never wanted to fly ever again.”

“What changed?”

“Time. After a while- and not that long, mind- I missed the speed. I missed being in the air. Flying is, and always will be, my life.”

  
\----

  
As ordered, Sam had stayed clear of the repair work to focus on the development of what was to be the new line of BC-304s, but that still necessitated boarding the Prometheus at times to study the Asgard hardware up-close.

Thankfully, since the Prometheus’ first night home, and the log entry she’d seen, forcing her to face her experience aboard the ship, Sam was finally unburdened of her anxiety related to the incident. She was now officially feeling one-hundred-percent herself, at least physically. In fact, she’d even vaguely been beginning to entertain the idea of contacting the SGC about returning. Vaguely, at least.

“Thought I might find you holed up in a lab here, _Doctor_ Carter,” crooned a familiar teasing voice from behind her in her lab, and she turned to see none other than Colonel O’Neill, handsomely decked out in his full dress uniform, handling various objects on her workbench. How long had he been there?

“Sir! I didn’t know you were coming! Ah, please don’t touch those,” she said, indicating the components he was turning over in his hands for a closer inspection, which he promptly replaced at her scorn.

“Well I wanted to surprise you, and someone needed to send your dress blues, so I thought why not bring them myself?” he said, holding up a paper bag and waggling his eyebrows excitedly.

“My dress blues?”

“Yep, another surprise- you’re getting an award tomorrow morning for saving the crew of the Prometheus. Congratulations, Carter. Obviously I couldn’t miss that,” he said, his eyes twinkling with pride. God she’d missed those eyes. And his smile. And his voice. God, pretty much everything about him.

“Oh wow, that’s great. Unexpected.” She hadn’t caught wind at all of any ribbon she was to receive, and was quite happy to have first heard about it from the Colonel.

“You finishing up soon? I haven’t eaten anything and I’ll bet fifty bucks you skipped the last meal or two-”

She looked at her watch to see that, yes indeed, she’d completely lost track of time and missed dinner again. “You know me well, Sir,” she sighed abashedly.

“That I do,” he said, smiling, and the prolonged eye contact was making her head swoon. “And _you_ know how _I_ hate wearing this thing,” he said, indicating his uniform. “I’m dying to get out of these asap, and then let’s grab something to eat, assuming the commissary is still open this late.”

“It will be, and yes, Sir. Actually, I was stuck on something anyway, so I can just leave it until tomorrow.”

“Good. Let’s get out of here and just, you know, hang out?” The smile he was sending her was making her knees weak. “Catch up, if you will?”

“Sounds good, Sir.”

Removing her white lab coat and draping it across the back of her swivel chair, they exited her lab and, learning his room number, she led him through the maze of corridors and elevators to the guest quarters’ wing. As it turned out, he would be staying just a few doors down from her own assigned room. As he entered his own quarters to get changed, rather than waiting for him outside in the corridor, she retreated to her own room, a sense of nervousness welling in her stomach. ‘Don’t be stupid, Sam. How many times have you shared a meal with the Colonel in the SGC commissary? This is no different.’ But she hadn’t seen him in over three weeks, and her conversation with Will and her entire recovery experience seemed to have rendered her less able to control her emotions. She couldn’t seem to quell her nerves, and, fumbling for something to do to keep herself distracted - and definitely having nothing to do with wanting to appear more attractive- settled on spending a minute or two touching up her make up and changing into a more fitted-style shirt that Abby had picked out for her back in San Diego.

Half an hour or so later, they were finishing up their late dinner-almost breakfast in the commissary, and Sam had just finished reminiscing about her niece and nephew’s antics, with the Colonel letting her do most of the talking. She felt like she hadn’t spoken this much in weeks, and was surprised that she’d almost forgotten the ease of their dynamic. Sure, talking with her brother and sister-in-law was easy enough, too, but she felt like she always had to hold something back; particularly since the biggest part of her life was entirely classified. Her chats with Will, too, were quite easy, but their friendship was still in its early stages, and she could sense a danger that if she let down her guard too much that a moment might develop between them. He was, after all, a higher-ranking officer in the Air Force, and while they weren’t in the same chain-of-command, she wouldn’t want her Colonel to hear of it. _”Colonel O’Neill”_ , not __”her”__ Colonel, she mentally corrected herself.

“Carter, I can’t get over the fact that you rode all the way to San Diego nonstop! Janet was so pissed! Plus your ass must have hurt,” he chuckled, and she blushed at the thought of the Colonel thinking about her behind. “Anyway,” he said, shifting to a more serious tone with his words. “I was hoping we could talk in private. Is there anywhere we can go?”

Her heart skipped a beat as her stomach turned to jelly at his sudden question. The commissary wasn’t particularly busy at this early time; it wasn’t like they were at huge risk of being overheard.

“Ugh, yeah, we can stop at my quarters on the way back to yours,” she managed, trying to hide the nervousness she felt from her voice.

“Great, lead the way.”

All of Sam’s focus was going into maintaining a calm-looking exterior, despite the trembling of her insides at her racing thoughts. He wanted to talk somewhere in private, and now they were alone in her room, which unlike her quarters at the SGC, didn’t have any security cameras.

“I have to come clean with you, Carter. It was Ronson who contacted me. Said he thought it would be a good idea for me to stop by and check up on you.”

She was initially surprised to hear that, but then again, Will had said that he thought of the Colonel as his friend.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, said there was something you ought to talk to me about?”

She froze. Will surely wouldn’t have told the Colonel about the video, or shared their conversation about her feelings for her CO?

“What? He said that?” she said, completely flustered, and she was sure he must be able to hear her heart pounding in panic against her ribcage.

“Yeah, that you weren’t sure if you wanted to rejoin SG1?”

‘Oh, thank god.’

“Oh that, Sir.” There was no way he could be missing the relief and colour surely flooding back into her face.

“You okay, Carter?”

“Yes, Sir,” and she nodded a little too enthusiastically, then realized her error and froze again.

“Right,” he said, taking a moment to survey her. He must have thought she was still acting strangely from her head injury, because he decided not to make any further comment. “Anyway, Teal’c says he thinks you’ve lost your mojo.”

It took her a second to register his words after her earlier fluster, before it hit her- Teal’c was probably right on the mark. Yes. She had lost her mojo. Just as he had lost faith in his own strength and ability after losing his symbiote and being forced to take Tretonin, she seemed to have lost faith in her own mental strength at being able to keep fighting this endless war.

“I think he might be right, Sir,” she admitted quietly after a while.

“Yeah, he is scarily observant. It gets kinda creepy, sometimes.”

She laughed, enjoying sharing the joke together.

“We all miss you. The SGC’s not the same without you there, you know. SG-1’s off the mission rota for now and I’m sick of helping out SG-11 with their boring negotiations. Plus, Daniel’s going nuts because I only have him to annoy in his lab.”

She gave another laugh imagining the Colonel winding Daniel up. The Colonel did always get restless when there wasn’t an upcoming mission and opportunities to chase Jaffa.

“I miss you guys, too. I guess I’m just struggling with the thought of returning to the field. I love it here. I have all the time and freedom I want to work on the projects I want.”

“Yeah I heard Vidrine's over the moon to have you here. Heard you’re practically single-handedly designing Earth’s new fleet of warships.”

“I wouldn’t say single-handedly…”

He raised an eyebrow.

“But yeah, I am making good progress here. I can make a huge contribution to fighting the war from here, and no one’s pointing a gun at me or trying to kill me. It’s been nice not fighting for my life every week, you know?”

“You’re just burned out, Carter. But trust me, I know you," and her belly squirmed at the way he was grinning at her. "You’ll miss the action. You’re a speed demon and it’s way too slow around here for you. You’d be bored within a month and want to be back to running from Jaffa patrols and dodging staff blasts with us.”

“Maybe,” she said after a long pause. And, perhaps it was due to some lingering effect of her head injury, or maybe she was using that excuse to bolster her own confidence, but for whatever reason, she decided to take Will’s advice and talk to the Colonel about *them*. Taking a deep breath, she quietly added, “But also, if I stay here permanently, I'll finally be able to get a life like you’re always telling me to.”

“A life, you say?” he said, smirking slightly, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” ‘A life with you,’ is what she’d wanted to say, but thought against it. She held his gaze, trying her best to convey her forbidden feelings for him. Her heart was pounding, she didn’t want to let the moment go. She mustered the rest of her courage to add, “I just, I just wish things were different.”

“Different- how?” he mused, his expression not giving anything away.

“Different between us,” she whispered, and she was both relieved and terrified at the same time as she saw his eyes furrow slightly, acknowledging that they were broaching the taboo topic of them.

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah,” and she couldn’t help but hold her breath in anticipation of what he’d say.

There was an awkward beat of silence. He seemed to be thinking something over, but as the silence dragged on, regret at daring to broach the subject began to fill her. He was going to turn her down. He didn’t feel the same, after all, and she was embarrassing herself in front of her still-Commanding Officer. Quickly planning an exit strategy, she finally exhaled, and drew in a new breath, ready to change the subject, when he beat her to it.

“I wish things were different too, Sam.”

Her brain went fuzzy. Her belly filled with butterflies. He still felt the same!

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do,” and their eyes held each other, unspoken words and longing being exchanged, just as they’d done through that damn forceshield years back. “But there are bigger things at stake, Carter,” he said finally, and she felt her stomach drop. “There’s a bigger picture, and we’re still needed in the fight. You’re still needed at the SGC, on SG-1. Who’s gonna save the world if there’s another naquadah asteroid sent hurtling this way? Who’s gonna blow up a sun to take out an enemy fleet? Who’s gonna build a laser thingy when I get trapped off-world again?”

“I can do most of those things based here,” she immediately countered. She might not be quite ready to fight a bunch of Jaffa, but she was more than ready to fight for him. “Part of our standing mission orders are to procure technologies to aid in the defense against the Goa'uld. What could be more important than heading the development of a fleet of ships to defend our planet? And now that the Prometheus is here, once she’s flying again, if there’s a global emergency, I can easily beam back and forth between the SGC and here. I don’t see the problem, _Sir_ ,” she finished with an almost insubordinate tone, but she didn’t care.

“Sam,” he started, and his use of her given name startled her. He looked to be surprised at her passionate outburst, and a prolonged pause followed as he seemed to consider his words. “We need you _out there_ , Sam. You belong on the team, in the field, with us.”

‘I belong with you, more like,’ she thought rebelliously, but remained silent.

“And that’s why,” he started, taking a deep breath. “That’s why there can’t be an us,” he said quietly, indicating with his hand between them, his usually well-guarded eyes softening. “I can’t give you what you want.”

She couldn’t form any words, a giant lump in her throat was suffocating her as she felt her eyes immediately brimming with tears. A couple slipped out uncontrollably, rolling down her cheek, and she watched as he raised his hand to her face and wiped them from her face tenderly. She felt his fingers linger on her face, caressing her skin ever so slightly. She held her breath as they stayed in that position, eyes fixated. She waited, hoping, despite his words, that he'd lean in and kiss her.

“C’mere,” he finally said, pulling her into his embrace, into which Sam sank deeply, clinging onto him as though for life. She couldn’t help release all the tears and emotion she’d felt the past three weeks, sobbing against his chest. “I’m sorry, Sam,” he whispered.

Burying her face into the crook of his neck, she unconsciously planted a soft kiss on his neck before saying, “I’m sorry, too.” She was pleased to feel him reward her kiss by tenderly pressing his lips to her head before giving her a tight squeeze.

“Sam, I’m old,” she heard him whisper into her hair. “I’ve already had my chance at marriage and a family, but you’re still young and deserve a chance at that. This war could take another twenty years to win. Don’t waste yourself waiting for me, I’m not worth it.”

She shook her head against his neck mid-sob. Of course he was worth it, but she couldn’t muster the ability to speak to protest his words. “If the opportunity comes,” he continued. “If someone else comes along who can make you happy, take it and don’t look back. Promise me, Sam.” he whispered.

She pulled back from his embrace to search his eyes, which looked deep with sorrow. She’d never seen him looking so open and vulnerable. Her heart was aching, but she still couldn’t let him go. She was losing him, and, unable to form any words, she leaned up on tiptoes to reach forward and brush her lips with his, praying he’d return the kiss. After a moment’s touch, however, to her dismay he pulled back.

“We can’t do this, Carter.”

It was over. There was no hope for them. The fight with the Goa’uld would win out, and this was just another sacrifice she’d have to make while in service of her planet. Fighting back another torrent of tears threatening to burst out, she gave a small nod, and saw that his soldier mask had slipped firmly back on. “Ceremony’s at ten hundred hours tomorrow in the hangar bay. See you then, Carter.”

It took everything in her to manage a feeble, “Yes, Sir”, and he swiftly turned and headed towards the door.

He gave pause as he gripped the handle, and turned to call back, “You know, Ronson has a thing for you.”

His words sliced through her heart. How could he so callously suggest an alternative lover when he himself was all she could ever want?! Was this not tearing his soul apart, too? Had she got it all wrong?

And as the door clicked shut, the dam burst, and for the first time since the Prometheus, for the first time in years, in fact, Sam cried, and really cried, _hard._ Cried for the loss of all those she’d known who’d lost their lives at the hands of the Goa’uld. For all the suffering she’d known because of the damn war and the entire program. For unwittingly allowing herself to become so trapped and wrapped up in her work that she’d probably missed out on ever having some semblance of a normal life. And most of all, she cried for the biggest sacrifice of all that she was being forced to make.

  
\----

  
Following a fitful sleep, Sam got up and had a quick shower before donning the dress blues that had been neatly folded in the paper bag the Colonel had brought her. The Colonel must have been in her house, because nestled at the bottom was her phone charger, which she decided to utilize, finally turning on her phone for the first since she’d left Colorado. The phone immediately sprang to life, buzzing and beeping to bombard her with alerts and notifications- mostly messages from Janet and Cassie- before she decided to turn it off, not to be late for her award ceremony. She’d get back to the texts later.

Ten minutes before the start of the ceremony, in addition to Colonel Ronson and General Vidrine, Colonel O’Neill was already there to greet her formally, both naturally and easily falling into their well-practiced professional roles. Certainly no outside observer would have seen any evidence of the intimate conversation and brief contact the two had shared the previous night.

Two weeks ago, Sam would have surely shunned the formality of the ceremony, wanting to ditch her uniform and bike off into the desert again, but today, as the Four-Star General pinned her newest service ribbon to her uniform, surrounded by officers saluting her, she felt a surge of self-pride as well as confidence from the military affair. She’d grown up attending several of her father’s military events and ceremonies, and addressing senior officers and even her own father as ‘Sir’ was second nature. And while her brother had sadly never shed his resentment from the loss of their mother that had caused him to shun the Air Force, Sam for whatever reason had never blamed the military. She may have envied Mark’s so-called ‘normal’ life, but the fact of the matter was that she’d grown up a military brat, and to her, unlike him, a life within the Air Force would always be ‘normal’ for her. The Air Force was her home. And it was also where her talents shone best. Best Academy test scores, best marksman, best female course time, not to mention being the one who could be depended upon to save the world. She couldn’t leave the Air Force, nor could she stay in Nevada either. The Colonel and even Will had been right about her. She was starting to miss the action, and the sense of belonging to a team in the field. She was still needed. And she still needed to be needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself sad writing that :( Had to add the last paragraph to help this chapter not end on such a miserable note :(
> 
> Stay tuned, next chapter will be up in the next couple of days!


	5. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam tries to move on, but it was never going to be easy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of the conversation from Lost City is borrowed from a previous fic of mine, "I Know".
> 
> Un-beta'd, sorry if there are any mistakes.

Sam spent the next week licking her wounds and burying herself in the now officially-designated 304 project. Will had been called to Washington for the next few days, and, feeling alone, had ended up making a couple of calls to Janet. Both times she’d ended up crying down the phone by the end, having confessed about the conversation with the Colonel, and admitting her unease about the future. 

But as the days passed, she couldn’t seem to ignore the tug of strings that were pulling her back towards Cheyenne Mountain. She’d find herself wishing she was back in the Springs spending time with the Frasiers, imagining taking Cassie out on a shopping trip and stuffing their faces at an ice cream store. She’d find herself pining for team nights and being forced to sit through another watch-through of Star Wars, restraining herself from commenting on the poor science. The static structure of her days here, the rigidity and security of her position, the smooth and predictable progress of her assignment was starting to become stale. Something was missing, some kind of... _unpredictability_. The kind of unpredictability that entailed waking up under the glare of binary alien suns, hot-wiring alien spaceships, and trenching through mud in a rain-lashed alien forest. Okay, perhaps not that last one, she thought. But as she slipped on her lab coat, she found herself longing to be gearing up instead, counting out her packs of ammunition and stash of MREs in a locker room instead of counting out power conduits in schematics at a desk.

And so, as her third week at Area 51 came to a close, comfortable and assured that the 304 project could continue on without her 24-hour support, she finally put in the call to General Hammond. 

——

Packing that night, as she set out her pants ready to put on first thing in the morning for the ride home, she spotted the corner of a piece of paper poking out the back pocket.

She pulled it out to see that it read: 

_”Pete Shanahan_  
_070-7777-7883_  
_Call him!_  
_Mark”_

She sighed as the heated conversation she'd had with her brother ran through her mind.

_“You can’t just live your life buried in science under a mountain, Sam, hiding from the real world! One day you’re gonna wake up and realize you’re old and alone!”_

She’d lost her temper at that point, Abby having to come between the two to resolve the argument, but the truth was that he’d touched a nerve, and it had hurt to hear it. She wasn’t young anymore and she certainly wasn’t invincible anymore. She was indeed starting to feel old. 

_”Go be happy, Sam.”_

“I tried, Dad,” she said aloud. She _had_ tried; she’d dared to break the unsaid rule between herself and the Colonel that was to never mention what had been locked in that room. She’d taken the chance chasing that happiness, and it had simply backfired. 

_”You deserve to love, and be loved in return.”_

She definitely loved the Colonel. She’d had no doubt of that for years. But even _if_ he loved her in return- which she still wasn’t even sure of- he’d done his very best to close the door on any chance they had.

_“I can’t give you what you want.”_

_”If someone else comes along who can make you happy, take it and don’t look back.”_

Early next evening, having ridden for more than twelve hours straight, and with a nervous feeling in her tummy, she entered the casual Denver restaurant, eyes scanning the tables, stopping at the man wearing the identifying blue cap.

\-----

It had happened. The dread and fear that she had felt after the Prometheus incident that she was next had finally been justified. Not even two months back into active duty, no less. Now she found herself once again just as mentally exhausted, physically hurt, and facing earth alone. Surrendering to the agony of her gashed leg, and of the complete exhaustion of being on the run hunted by the Anubis’ drone soldier for over a day straight, giving in to the utter hopelessness of ever being found, she watched on as the drone raised its arm, ready to fire and end her life.

She really wished she’d thrown all caution to the wind and said fuck it when the Colonel had been in her quarters in Nevada. She really wished she’d told him outright that she loved him before wrapping her arms around him and pulling him to her bed. Now she’d never know the feel of his naked body wrapped around her, making love to her. All she’d know from now on was blackness. Closing her eyes, she waited for the end...

But then, out of sheer luck, the Colonel and Teal’c had found and rescued her just in time, and here she was with another chance at telling him; another chance at fighting for a life with him- but she wouldn’t. Nothing could change between. They were well and truly still as deep as ever in the war- thicker and more dangerous than ever with Anubis’ army of drones on the attack. And she’d listened to him and was now in the early days of dating another man. No, nothing could happen between them.

But still, she would permit herself to accept his offer of his shoulder, leaning into his warm comfort. The comfort of a _friend_. He didn’t need to know that the musky smell of his sweat grounded her and made her feel instantly safe despite the terror she’d faced two minutes prior. He didn’t need to know that the one thing that had given her the strength to keep running despite her injury and the relentlessness of the drone was the thought of seeing him again. And he certainly didn’t need to know that her last thoughts as she’d faced death, and even now as she felt herself slip into unconsciousness in his arms, were always of him. 

\----

The empty pit in her soul that had been carved out by the loss of Janet was harrowing. She’d barely had time to process her own near-death experience facing the drone two weeks prior. Stacked on top, now, too, was the lingering terror of how close they’d come to losing the Colonel.

She hadn’t been able to face seeing him since he’d come out of surgery, afraid of being seen completely breaking down in front of him. Ever since that day of humming in the elevator, she hadn’t missed the chasm that had slowly ripped open between them, stretching out further every day. 

Exhausted from grief, and of course wanting to get away from any opportunity to run into that damn camera crew, Sam had locked herself in her on-base quarters. She hadn’t been able to face going to Janet’s empty home while Cassie was at school, and she also didn’t want to go to her own home in case Pete unexpectedly showed. 

She’d called him to tell him of her loss and that the Colonel was still clinging to a sliver of life, but all he’d done was offer an automatic, “I’m sorry, Babe,” and asked when she’d be home, insisting on dropping in on her. But she didn’t want his comfort. She didn’t want to have to fake being happy and strong in front of him. In fact, she didn’t want to see him at all, right now. She knew she was probably being clouded by grief and her unruly emotions, but she couldn’t help but feel resentment towards Pete for not being part of the SGC, and for the fact that there was no way he would be able even begin to comprehend what the loss of Janet could mean to her. No, to the entire world. In her twisted grief, she’d even had an errant thought run through her head that perhaps her unexpected inheritance of an adopted daughter that would probably have to move in with her soon would put a strain on their relationship.

Daniel himself had understandably made himself scarce, too; they all knew he’d held a secret love for Janet all these years. At least Teal’c had offered her one of his bear hugs when she’d stopped by his quarters, which had helped immensely. She always found the smell of his candles calming, too. But she couldn’t hide from the fact that what she really needed, or rather _who_ she needed before she’d have the strength to keep face and be strong for Cassie when she had to pick her up from cheerleading practice later, was the Colonel.

She’d just heard that he was being cleared to go home that afternoon, and had wanted to catch him before he left.

She found him in the infirmary an hour later with his shirt up, stopping dead in her tracks, heart racing. Goddammit, she thought. He’d been close to death, she had a boyfriend, and he was her CO. She shouldn’t be affected by seeing his naked torso like that. She fleetingly thought of backing out, but he’d already clocked her, visibly hastening to pull down his shirt. 

“Sir, I heard you were up and around,” she said, trying to hide any sense of unease.

“Yeah ... err, still a little tender but they said I could go home.”

She wished so hard that Janet would be going home, too.

“We're lucky that staff-blast hit you where it did. That new vest insert works well.”

Thank god for Dr. Lee, she thought.

“Didn't help Fraiser much.”

She felt a stab of pain by hearing him calling her “Frasier”, and not Janet, but guessed this was one of his own ways of dealing with grief.

“No,” was all she could reply with. An awkward moment fell, each thinking of their lost friend. Then she watched as he stood to grab his shirt.

“How's Cassie?”

“She's a strong kid. She survives, you know.”

She wondered how the universe could be so cruel to a child that they lose not one but two mothers. 

“Yeah. You speaking at the memorial?”

She really didn’t want to talk about that. She knew he was probably just scrambling for anything to say to avoid the awkwardness that would no doubt loom over them- as it often did lately- but she didn’t have the emotional strength right now to pander to his idle questions. Focusing on her reason for coming to speak with him, she gave a nod in answer to his question before taking a steeling breath.

“Sir ... I ... I just wanted to say... When you were lying there I …” And despite her best efforts, she was unable to fight back the deluge of tears that were bursting to stream out. Pressing on before she completely lost control, managed to say, “I'm really glad you're okay.” The gaze of his piercing brown eyes became too much, forcing her to look away to clamber for control. Through her tears she saw from the corner of her eye as he took a step or two closer to her, closing in on her personal space. She could feel her body react to his closeness, aching for his touch, desperate for him to hold her and heal the hole that had been ripped in her being.

“C'mere.”

She immediately sank into the deep hug just as she had done back in Nevada, grasping onto him as though her life depended on it. His arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders, pulling her in further, and as she felt him turn his face into her neck, she sensed him place the gentlest brush of lips on her skin. She knew he was just being a comforting friend, sharing in the grief of their mutual loss. She knew it couldn’t mean anything more. She couldn’t have him. But she would savour the feel of him, allowing her soul to draw as much strength as it could to be strong for Cassie. This single hug, this one shared moment would be enough. It had to be.

\---

“Sir, I think you should know that General Hammond authorized me to take command of the team if I determined it …”

“Do it now,”

“Sir, I don't think that's necessary yet.”

“I trust you…I'll make it easy for you…I resign. You're in charge.”

Even with his brain completely scrambled, he still trusted in her. He was essentially placing his life in her hands, letting her command the rest of the mission, but she was going to fail him. All she could do was to see that his sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain.

She saw as he returned his focus to the hyperdrive engine crystals, tinkering with them.

“Sir, at your house before Daniel and Teal'c showed up, what I was gonna say was…”

“I know,” he said simply, standing upright and cutting her off as he gazed into her eyes with intensity and raw emotion. 

“Colonel,” she sighed. “Please let me finish.”

She took a steadying deep breath.. She would make sure he heard her out. She would even pull the ‘I’m in charge now,’ card if she had to. To her surprise, however, he stood still, leaving the crystal panel untouched, and gave her his full attention.

“You said it would be worth it to find the Lost City. You said it would be worth it if we find what we’re looking for to defend the planet.”

“I did. And it will be.”

“Will it?”

“Carter?”

“We both know what’s going to happen to you. We’re going to lose you bit by bit until you’re not you anymore-”

“The Asgard’ll save me again.”

“You know there’s no time for that now.”

“Well, going out saving Earth for the however-many-th time it is by now… that’s not so bad, is it?” His voice sounded bright, but there was no masking the sadness displayed in his eyes.

“But what about me, Sir?” 

“What about you?” he said harshly, but she wasn’t going to let that deter her.

“To me, Earth isn’t worth saving if you’re not there.”

“Carter, I already told you I’m not worth it. I told you to move on and not look back.”

“I don’t care what you said!” she spat, then regretting her outburst, added quietly, “You’re gonna die anyway,” her voice warbled at the thought of losing him, but she pushed on through. “Or even if you somehow, miraculously live, you won’t remember this conversation anyway, right?”

“Carter, don’t-”

“So what have I got to lose?” 

“Don’t go there, Carter! You’re with the Cop, don’t waste your life on me Sam. I’m a dead man anyway!” he shouted, finally losing his temper. She didn’t know if he was angry at her, or the fact that he was facing certain death, or both. But it didn’t matter. She would keep talking, because the fact that he couldn’t even bring himself to name her boyfriend had only spurred her on, proving he was hurt. Proving he must have feelings for her.

“I need to say it, Jack,” and she made to close the distance between them. Her heart was pounding in her ears, hot blood coursing through her body as she whispered, “I love you,” taking a final step to him, their torsos meeting. When he didn’t back away, nothing to lose, she bent her head sideways and leaned in. On the brink before their lips met, his soft reply of, “I know,” was barely heard over the hum of the engine. 

To her relief he returned the kiss, but maintained control of the pace. He wouldn’t allow it, she realized, to grow into a kiss of passion and future promises. This was a kiss goodbye. A goodbye only she would remember.

\-----

The sudden proposal from Pete had completely caught her off her guard. It had been simple enough to date Pete. He was funny, charismatic, positive, and fun to be with, and she’d slipped casually and easily enough into a relationship with him. But amidst the busyness of her work, and perhaps complete naivety on her part, she hadn’t yet stopped to consider an endgame with him. She had never paused to think if they were on the same page, and now it seemed that he was reading a completely different book. They hadn’t even discussed the future together, and he’d just sprung a proposal on her just like that. How could he push this decision on her like this?!

_“They make you afraid of being alone but at the same time tell you not to settle for anything less than the perfect romantic ideal, like that actually exists anywhere in the real world. Either way you can't win!”_

Her pent-up frustration had led her to vent at her friends when they’d been discussing Teal’c’s neigbour’s relationship drama. She felt embarrassed at the memory of snapping like that- much to Teal’c and Daniel’s surprise- but it was clear as day that she needed someone to talk to. Obviously Mark and Abby were out of the question when they were so biased towards Pete. And as for Teal’c and Daniel, despite how close she felt to them, she always felt awkward at the thought of asking them for relationship advice. Janet would have always been the unquestionable number one person she’d go to, but she was gone now. No, truly the person she was left with, and undeniably the one person she actually _should_ talk to about her decision was the one person she couldn’t face.  


She’d been lost in her swirling thoughts all day. Pete wasn’t perfect- she already knew who that was- but at least she could have him. And he was her last chance at having as close to a normal life as being the leader of a flagship team of planet explorers could permit.

“Carter.”

His unexpected voice in her lab startled her.

“Sir,” she said automatically, before she’d even registered it was him.

“I never thought I'd hear myself utter these words. I need that report.”

Oh crap, she’d totally forgotten about that.

“Right. Um, I just need to finish typing up my notes.”

Searching around her desk she realized with a shock that she hadn’t even gotten round to writing any of her notes at all. How had she let herself become such a mess? She’d have to start the entire thing from scratch.

“Uh…yeah, I'll have it for you first thing tomorrow,” she said, mortified by how unprofessional she was being. Pete’s proposal had thrown such a spanner in her well-oiled machine. She was never out of control or disorganized like this. How could being with Pete possibly be a good thing when all it did was render her completely unable to focus on work- the most important part of her life?  


She watched as he checked his watch.

“It _is_ tomorrow.”

“Oh.” When had that even happened?!

“I'm joking, I don't need the report.” She was tired and her eyes hurt from staring at her screen unseeing all day, lost in her churning thoughts about that ring stuffed in her desk drawer. If the General didn’t need the report then why was he here? She didn’t need him to turn up at this time of night and point out her professional failure. She already had enough on her mind as it was.

“Well then, why….”

“Because something's going on with you. You haven't tried to confuse me with any scientific babble for the last couple of days and that's a red flag to me.”

Trust him to know her that well. She let out a sigh. Well she’d already embarrassed herself by completely forgetting the report due, may as well dig a deeper hole for herself while she was at it. And she dug out the offending ring box and handed it to the General, longing so hard that this situation was reversed.

“Pete gave me this.”

She watched with dread as he took the box and opened it, her stomach in a knot in anticipation of how he would react.

“People normally wear these on their fingers.” Was that bemusement in his voice?

“I haven't said yes.”

“And yet, you haven't said no.”

“I told him I needed to think about it.” Well, she certainly had done a lot of that the past fortnight.

“And?” and she watched as he set down the ring box on her desk.

“That was two weeks ago,” she said, face hot with shame at her indecision. She truly was never this inconclusive about things in her field of work. In battle, she could be relied on for her quick-thinking, fast problem-solving and adaptability. How could she still be so clueless after two weeks regarding her personal life?

“Ah!”

“You know, all these years I've been concentrating on work I just assumed that one day I would…”

“Have a life?”

“Yeah.” He’d certainly nailed it there. “And now it comes down to it, I don't know. I mean, every time we go through the gate we risk not coming back. Is it fair to put somebody else through that?”

“Pete is a cop. I think he could handle it.” She gave a wince. There was something painful about hearing Pete’s name escape his lips. As though if she and the General never talked about it, denied her relationship with another man, then it wouldn’t have to become such a barrier between them.

Her heart was pounding. Well, if they were going to talk about this, she was determined to rip the band aid off and get it all out. She’d have her chance to lick her wounds later.

“What about kids?”

“What about 'em?”

“Do I take maternity leave and then come back? Do I drop the baby off at daycare on my way to some unexplored planet on the edge of the crab nebula?”

“Carter, there are people on this base who have families.” God it was so heart-wrenching talking to the General about having kids with another man. Someone that wasn’t him. And it hurt that he seemed to be encouraging her to accept the proposal. At the very least, he certainly wasn’t saying anything to deter her. She was determined to fish for his true opinion on what she should do. Not more games and O’Neill innuendo, she thought.

“What about you?” she ventured, locking eyes with him. Insisting with her gaze that he give her a clear answer. “If things had been different…”

He gazed back, but she couldn’t read his expression. There was no pain visible.

“I wouldn't be here.”

She took a moment to process his words. What did that even mean?

“Sir,” she tried, determined to keep pressing him. She knew he’d already told her to move on and get a life back in Nevada a year prior, but surely at the time he’d never believed she would actually follow his advice. Now that she had, now that she was on the brink of entering a formal commitment to another man, would his advice change? Would he ask her to wait now? “Sir- what do you mean you wouldn’t be here?”

She watched as he gave an audible sigh, before turning around and heading to her door. Her heart gave a lurch of terror. She’d pushed too far, and now he was leaving. But then to her relief, she saw as he took out his key card and swiped the doorside slot. Her lab doors slid shut, and they were alone. 

He turned back around to face her, his expression serious this time. She held her breath, heart hammering at her ribcage. This was it. This conversation would determine the rest of her life.

“Sam.” How good it was to hear the sound of her given name on his lips. She didn’t think he’d called her by her given name in about a year since that conversation on the cargo ship he’d now forgotten. He wouldn’t call her ‘Sam’ now he seemed to be working hard to keep her at arm’s length since her relationship with Pete had begun. “Things aren’t different. I’m still here, we’re still here fighting this war.”

“Tell me to say no.”

“I can’t do that, Sam. I can’t ask you to wait for me. I still can’t give you what you want. Pete can.”

“But-“ she started, fighting back tears.

“Go be happy, and don’t look back. That’s an order,” he finished firmly, kicking at her desk leg, before turning and swiping his keycard again and marching out of her lab and her future without so much as a backwards glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For fun: the last eight numbers I chose for Pete’s number spell out a word. Can you figure it out? XD  
> [Redbourn got the correct answer! Hint: imagine typing the numbers texing on a phone]
> 
> Well this story so far has made for an angsty Christmas holiday! Probably a reflection of my feelings of not being able to go back to my home country for Christmas...
> 
> Now, moving in to the new year, I can finally write happy stuff! Guess what episode insert will feature in the next chapter? :D 
> 
> Will take a few days to get it up, stay tuned and Happy New Year!


	6. Threading the Needle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Okay, so I just rewatched Threads to make sure the passage of time in my story stays as canon-compliant as possible. The scenes play quickly in the episode and it’s hard to tell how much time passes between when Teal’c and the rebel forces realise they were deceived by Anubis and end up leaving Dakara less well-guarded, to when Teal'c is at the SGC reporting that Dakara has already fallen to Anubis’ control, but in my fic, it’s overnight and about 15-18 hours. 
> 
> Also, some of you might read this and wonder why Jack would leave the SGC to go home at a time like this, but it’s just a story, don’t think too hard :)

The emptiness she felt at the loss of her father was incomprehensible. Daniel too, was surely dead. And she was entirely responsible for both. She’d been the one who’d fucked up and allowed an evil machine duplicate of herself to escape, returning with an army of cipher-immune replicators to conquer the Milky Way. It was her fault that Selmak had had to cling on to fight the Replicators, dooming her father along with her. It was her fault, too, that Daniel had been taken, now undoubtedly a frozen carcass floating in space after the firing of the Dakara weapon that she herself had calibrated.

Sure, they’d already held two memorials for Daniel in the past, but this time she couldn’t cling onto any shred of hope that he would be coming back. Unlike the General, that was. Sure, good for him for having his stupid false hope and being able to merrily carry on in dumb denial, but where did that leave her? He’d never allow her any closure, nor would he ever give her any comfort over the loss of Daniel. Not the way he’d held her as she’d sobbed uncontrollably as the Tok’ra had removed her father’s body from the isolation room. 

The embrace she had shared with the General after the loss of her father had been briefly restoring, giving her just enough strength to accept the visiting Tok’ra’s condolences; just enough to hold it together to escape to the privacy of her lab. There’d been no point even turning on the light or her computer when she’d entered. 

They’d just heard word from Teal’c that Anubis had tricked him and the rebel forces, drawing them away from their guard at Dakara. They all knew well that his next move now would be to take the planet and the weapon for himself. She’d instantly regretted her suggestion to the Jaffa that they hold off on destroying the weapon because they couldn’t be sure that they had disintegrated all the replicators in the galaxy. To be fair, they didn’t know the range of the weapon outside the orbit of a planet- her suggestion had been perfectly reasonable- but now it was just another of her choices that had doomed them all. The remaining rebel Jaffa wouldn’t stand a chance against Anubis’ entire fleet. He would claim the weapon and calibrate it to wipe out all humans in the galaxy, along with using the modification to the gate that she herself had requested of Ba’al. The final consequence and culmination of one seemingly-small decision or mistake she’d made over time snowballing into a colossal human-race-ending galactic catastrophe. 

Sure, thanks to her, the Replicators’ invasion had decimated the Goa’uld empire and freed the Jaffa, and sure, thanks to her and Selmak, the Replicators themselves had been eradicated. But now that progress would be obliterated at the push of a button, and they had absolutely no way of stopping him.

Defeated and mentally drained, there was no fight in her anymore. She felt ready to accept her oncoming death. Just as she had on the bridge of the Prometheus. Just as she had at the hands of the Anubis drone. Collapsing at her desk, she’d never felt more alone.

The thought that she was supposed to marry Pete the following week was a complete and utter joke. She didn’t even want to think of him. She felt sickened at the thought of his happy, ignorant excitement. Despite the waiver he’d signed she couldn’t tell him anything of the impending end of the entire human race. What would be the point, anyway? It wasn’t his fault or anything he’d done, per se. He just wasn’t for her. The thought of being committed to him for the rest of her life was like a sickening dead weight pulling her down. It might be too late for a chance with the General, but it didn’t matter. She had to end things with Pete before Anubis snuffed her out of existence. At least then she could die with one less regret.

\----  
“Thought I might find you here,” came a sudden voice. Openening her eyes, looking around bewildered, she realized to her embarrassment that the General must have come into her dark lab to find her asleep at her desk. “Urm, you know the light switch is here?” and she startled at the sudden rush of brightness intruding her dark despair. “Go home, Carter.”

She couldn’t even muster the effort to look the General in the eyes. She didn’t have the strength to put on her soldier mask and attempt to look professional. All she wanted was to be left alone to sleep at her desk and hide from everything, forever. She was just done. 

“I’m staying here. I feel like I should be here,” she mumbled into her folded arms.

“Dad’s been taken care of, and unless you dreamed up a miracle to stop Anubis while you were snoozing, all that’s left is to wait for him to doom us all. Go home and be with Pete.”

She gave a wince. She didn't want to think of him, and she always hated hearing the General voice that name. It was like every time he acknowledged that she was engaged to someone else, the wall between them shot up another ten feet. And it was already sky-high. 

“No, Sir. He’s working late tonight, but I don’t want to see him anyway.”

“Oh?” 

She heard rather than saw his surprised reaction, still pitifully hiding her face in her arms propped on her desk. How pathetic she must look. She was supposed to be the leader of his flagship team and third in command of this entire base.

“I just can’t deal with him on top of everything else,” she couldn't help mumble truthfully.

“I see.” She sensed him scrutinizing her, and after a pause, it seemed he chose not to pursue her comment further. “Well, personally, I can’t deal with the President calling me all day, asking when we’re gonna magically come up with another galaxy-saving plan. I’m putting Reynolds in charge. He can pick up the phone instead. I’m going home, and I could do with a beer… or five.”

“Yeah tell me about it,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead.

“Well I’m not sure I have that much beer for the both of us, but I’ve still got that whiskey leftover from Cassie’s college send-off party that we can polish off? Wanna come over to mine?”

Was she still asleep? Did he actually ask her to come over to his? Her heart gave a feeble wobble in appreciation of his invitation before the thought of bumping into Agent Johnson at his house made her stomach lurch, immediately souring the idea.

“Ugh, wow, that sounds nice, but I don’t think I’d be good company right now,” she said in a fumbled excuse, picking up a bunch of used tissues from her desk and dropping them again emphatically. “And I would have thought you’d want to invite Agent Johnson over, anyway?” she couldn’t help snarl, remembering the way that woman had strut out of his house holding those plates, looking sickeningly at home there.

“She, er… Actually we broke up this morning,” he said awkwardly, and once her brain had processed his words, her heart pounded a jolt of adrenaline into her system, finally giving her the strength to look straight up and meet his gaze. He’d broken up with her!? 

Oh,” she said casually, trying to stem the huge rush of elation running through her. 

“Yeah. So, we can watch a hockey game? Or I can put the Science Channel on if you’d rather…? And you can hide from Pete,” he said, throwing her a bemused grin, to which she gave another wince and a feeble laugh.

“I’m not hiding from him, just…”

“Avoiding?”

“Yeah,” she conceded.

“Hmmm,” he said thoughtfully, studying her with those brown eyes, waiting for her answer. She was surprised to see that he looked genuinely sincere in his invitation, not like those times before things had become awkward between them when he used to casually invite her fishing. It had become a safe song and dance routine- he’d ask and she’d turn him down- just another part of their old flirting regime.

Looking around, she inhaled deeply, concluding that she could either sit at her desk crying even more for the next several hours and wait for shit to hit the fan across the galaxy, or call his bluff and accept. On the whole, it was quite an easy decision.

“In that case I’d like to come over, if that’s okay.”

“Sweet. Meet you upside in twenty, then.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Meeting at the base parking lot, they decided that they would take their own vehicle in case one was called back in an emergency. Saying he’d quickly stop for groceries on the way home, he handed her his keys, telling her to make herself at home first.

Bike parked out his front, she let herself in first. That smell that was distinctly _him_ hit her nose as she opened the door, and, taking off her jacket, she decided to look around, gazing at the photographs displayed on his mantelpiece. Her eye caught an old team photo of the original four members of SG-1 taken off-world, though the surroundings looked Earth-like enough to not give anything away if a neighbour called round. The General was wearing his classic cap and black sunglasses, Daniel wearing that ‘archaeologist’s hat’ as she’d always called it, and Teal’c’s head was still clean-shaven. She’d almost forgotten what he looked like without hair. With a pain, she realized that she was now the sole remaining member of SG-1. Daniel was gone, the General had become ‘the Man’, and Teal’c would surely join his newly-freed people and be leaving Earth for good. _If_ Anubis could be stopped- and that was a big if- she wondered briefly if she would even want to stay on SG-1? She suddenly felt vulnerable at how alone she had become. She’d lost her Dad and Daniel within a week of each other, Teal’c would would be leaving now, and who else did she have?

The photo beside the first of Cassie’s sixteenth party was a further reminder of people she’d lost. Janet, of course, beaming out the frame, had left a hole in her soul. But Pete, too, had ended up driving a wedge between her and Cassie. After Janet’s death, she had initially moved into Cassie’s house to join her, but it had eventually become too aching for both to live with the ghost of their memories with Janet. Happy memories, of course, but both decided it would be better for Cassie to live permanently in Sam’s house for them to move on. Except that Pete’s increasingly frequent visits started to always coincide with Cassie making herself scarce with various plans, and after a fight between the two following Sam catching Cassie sneaking home clearly high and with a pack of cigarettes, Cassie had moved back into Janet’s house to live alone for the final month before her move to LA to study Biochemistry at UCLA. The last time she’d seen Cassie had been here in this house for her farewell party. It had been an awkward affair. The loss of Janet still hung over all their heads, Cassie wasn’t talking to her, and the General and she had unconsciously taken to not meeting outside of work, and they'd ended up keeping things as professional and impersonal as possible. The bash had ended up finishing early, hence the unfinished bottle of whiskey leftover.

'Speaking of...' she thought, as she headed for his kitchen, easily locating the drink nestled in a tall cupboard, and decided to help herself while she waited for him. It was tempting to just swig the bottle, but, knowing where he kept his shot glasses, she helped herself to a glass, before deciding to take out and pour out a second for the General.

Refilling her own glass a second time, she knocked back the third hit, and felt to her relief as her senses finally quietly dulled, as though the strong liquid was a sheet of sandpaper rubbing at her abrasive grief. Leaning back against the kitchen counter, it occurred to her that this was the first time she’d been in his house alone before. She guessed she’d never been given permission, or perhaps, never been _entrusted_ with being allowed alone into his private home. The General had always been such a secretive man. Despite openly displaying photos of the life before she’d known him- of Charlie, his marriage, his service days before they’d met- he would never answer questions about them to anyone. She felt humbled by this opportunity, and felt her previous resentment at his approach to Daniel’s yet-again-death fade ever so slightly.

The General still hadn’t arrived, so she decided to go freshen up in the main bathroom, using the toilet before washing her hands and face. The smell of the face towel as she patted her cheeks dry was like a drug. She couldn’t help burying her face into it, drawing in that unique scent that was his soap, before putting it away, realizing how ridiculous she would look if he came back now and caught her. Staring at her reflection in the sink mirror, she saw the shadows of lack of sleep and the blotchiness of countless tears shed since the last time she’d been here. She shuddered at the memory of the heartbreak and humiliation she’d felt as that Johnson woman had stepped out on the deck- had that been yesterday, or the day before? Either way, what could have happened since then that had caused them to break up? But before she could ponder further, a click at the door informed her that the General had returned. Splashing her face with cold water once more, trying to cool her nerves, she headed to greet him at the door. 

“Sir,” she greeted, doing her best to smile and not look nervous.

“Hey, I thought we could cook up your favourite?” and he handed her the plastic bag from his grasp, and she peered into its contents as he locked the door behind him. Predictably there was a six-pack, as well as an onion, a jar of kidney beans, a bar of dark chocolate, and some mince.

“Christmas chilli in May, Sir?” 

“Well I don’t think Anubis will hold off ‘til Santa Claus comes to town, so…”

“Wow, thank you, Sir,” and she genuinely meant it. It had always been an SG-1 tradition to have her mother’s chilli recipe for the Christmas team nights they’d had when they were on Earth. Except that Pete had made her miss the last Christmas, she recalled bitterly. “It doesn’t seem fair, though,” she thought aloud. This was _his_ house after all. “Shouldn’t we have your favourite, too?”

“I got my favourite food here,” he said, waggling a bottle of beer before cracking it open, sending the cap flying through the air.

“Right. Of course, Sir” she mused, and as he took a swig, murmuring, “Mmm, beer,” in his best Homer Simpson impression, she couldn't help give a laugh.

“Shall I hold off on the Christmas songs, then?” he joked, pretending to hit a button on his stereo while she unpacked the groceries.

“Please do,” she said smiling, fishing out his knife and starting to prize open the onion skin.

“I think I got a jar of tomatoes stashed somewhere, and there should be cinnamon in the spice rack for that weird festive kick you like putting in it.”

“Okay.” 

As she fished out his cooking pot, she couldn’t help but feel that things were going _too_ well so far. They hadn’t spent any time alone together off-base since her engagement, and as she felt the buzz of the earlier shots of whiskey start to leave her system, she began to feel self-conscious of their movements. She couldn’t help feel like what they were doing was a farce. No different to the civil professionalism they displayed on-base. Were they even still friends after everything? Or was his prior joking just him being cordial, as he would with any other officer under his command?

A couple of years ago they would have worked seamlessly together to cook up something- just like the way they could have wordlessly communicated to set up camp efficiently, or been unconsciously able to switch targets and cover each other in the heat of battle. That shared intuition and the in-tuneness they’d developed and used to have was what had made them the most successful officers at the SGC. Now, however, she noticed that they kept bumping elbows awkwardly or blocking each other from necessary utensils. She wondered if he, too, had noticed the loss of that synchronicity they used to have. And as she started chopping the onions, she wasn’t sure if it was just the sulfenic acid causing her eyes to burn.

As she turned to throw the chopped onions into the pot the General was stirring, she knocked into his arm, and the next moment the spoon he’d been holding spun out of his grasp, smattering her cardigan with sauce, before clattering onto the floor.

“D’oh. Sorry, Carter, let me-” and he fished the dishcloth hanging beside the sink and started to wipe at her, but the sudden closeness just furthered her embarrassment, and she awkwardly stepped back, taking the dishcloth from his hand roughly, before seeing that her skirt, too, was also stained red.

“It’s fine, Sir, just- never mind!” she said frustrated- more so at herself than him- before he picked up the spoon from the floor, and used it to point at his bedroom.

“You can fish some of my room-wear from my hamper, I’m sure you can find something that just about fits.”

“Okay,” she muttered embarrassed, heading for his room.

“Just throw your stuff in the laundry. If we put it on now the tomato might come out,” she heard him call after her. “I’ll finish up the cooking.”

After taking a moment to get over the shock and embarrassment, she successfully found a pair of grey sweatpants that looked like they ran a bit short on the leg, and a cream-coloured long sleeved Air Force sweater. As she pulled it over her head, the scent of the General’s soap filled her nostrils again. She couldn’t help but feel that wearing it felt like she was wrapped in arms again.

As she made her way to make use of his laundry machine located in his bedroom ensuite, she froze at the sight of a used, white hotel toothbrush next to his at the sink. Her heart plummeted to think it could only be Johnson’s. She must have stayed the night here. Perhaps... did she stay the night while her father was dying? Did he sleep with her while she was keeping vigil at her father’s bedside?! No, she mentally kicked herself. Sure, the shock of finding the General was with someone else, and then the loss of her father had made everything in between a bit of a blur, but as she calmed her racing thoughts, she was pretty sure the General had turned up at the base not too long after she had. But it still hurt to see the toothbrush. She must have stayed the night before, then, before the barbeque party she’d crashed. It hurt so much to think about her being here, in his house. She wished that that was her toothbrush was there next to his. She wished that she could be padding around the General’s house wearing his loungewear like this every evening, getting ready to have dinner with him. It wounded her soul that she couldn’t have him, that they’d lost that synergy since she’d gotten herself engaged to that stupid man, and she just couldn’t pretend any longer that she was okay with the way things had turned out. She just needed Pete out of her life- _now_.  


Ramming her clothes into the laundry machine and slamming it shut and into action, she returned to the dining room to see the General waiting at the table, serving up.

“Hey Carter, I think I overdid the chocolate. The sauce is a bit thick, but it smells good!” 

“Sorry, Sir. You can start without me. I need to make a phone call,” and she grabbed her phone from the sofa and ran into the guest bedroom without giving any further explanation, missing the surprised look on his face. The need to finish it with Pete was just overwhelming. 

"Come on, pick up pick up!" she muttered as the phone rang too many times for her stress to handle.

“Sam!” he said, finally picking up, but her relief at his answer was quickly replaced by irritation at his bright tone. “I’ve been so worried! Mark called me to tell me about your Dad. Asked if the wedding was still on as planned. I didn’t even know! Why didn’t you call? You should have told me about your Dad!”

She didn’t even bother answering his line of questioning. She wasn’t going to let him interrogate her like she was one of his suspects. It angered her, too, that he hadn’t even thought to offer his condolences over her father’s death- not that it would have helped comfort her one bit- but it just solidified that she was completely done with him. She practically ordered him to meet her at the house at ten the next morning, before snapping her cell phone shut at his confirmation, storming back into the living room. 

The General must have turned off the stove fan, because she was hit by the strong smell of onion and the stone silence of his house. She tossed her cell back onto the sofa and stood fixed at the sight of him seated at the table, waiting expectantly. 

“I just called Pete,” she huffed in reply to his questioning look. “I’m meeting him tomorrow morning. I’m calling off the wedding.”

“You sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes, I’m sure!” she half-shouted, exasperated. Why didn't he look happy? Surely if he felt the same for her he’d smile, or say something more positive? But he wasn’t giving anything away.

He nodded, before saying, “Dinner’s getting cold,” indicating her to join him at the table. But she didn’t care about dinner. She was beyond hunger, beyond thinking about food. All she wanted was for him to do something- say something- _anything_ that would stop her heart hurting so much. She couldn’t help but let out a huge sigh in frustration, rubbing her face irritably. She couldn’t join him at the table and just pretend there was no bomb of pent up frustration ticking in her heart. ‘Goddammit Jack!’ she thought. Why did he never throw her a bone? Why did he never make things between them easy? Why did it always have to fall to her to force the topic upon him? To have to push the regs and be the bad one? 

She needed another drink. Just needed to slow her brain and dampen the pain. Crossing past him to the kitchen counter, she grabbed the whiskey, pouring herself another shot and downed it, feeling the General’s eyes on her. She didn’t care what he must think. If she could just suppress some of her grief and complete frustration at him then she might just be able to function.

“Are you okay?” came his voice as she started to pour a second glass.

“No, I’m not fucking okay! I just- ah! I can’t do this,” she cried out, slamming the now emptied-glass hard on the counter.

“Carter, no one’s expecting you to be okay.” 

She couldn’t look at him. At the sting of her eyes, she looked up, begging the drink to hold back the threatening tears.

“I’m just sick of losing everything! It’s my fault Dad died, Daniel’s dead- and don’t you dare say he’s not!” she bellowed, locking eyes with him, glaring him into silence. “And Janet…” She wanted to add, ‘And I’ve lost you,’ but she couldn’t form the words. “Cassie hates me because of Pete, and now, after everything we’ve put into fighting this war, how could it turn out that we’d end up on the losing side?! How is that justice? How is that fair?!”

“It’s not,” he said quietly, getting up from his seat and coming to a stop halfway to her, allowing for a respectable distance between them.

“And do you know what’s more pathetic? I don’t even know why I’m crying over Dad and Daniel when Anubis is going to wipe every human out from existence anyway! How stupid is that!?” she shouted, wiping her tears furiously, wishing her eyes would respond to her logic.

“Stupid is the last word I would use to describe you, Carter,” he said quietly.

“I am stupid!!” she roared in contest. “Stupid to ever think that I would live to see the end of this fight. Stupid to think I would ever deserve to get to have a normal life at the end of it, you know!?”

“You have a right to be angry.”

“Yes! I am angry! Everybody thinks I’m some miracle-working brainiac who saves the world, or something, and sure along the way I’ve done some incredible things, but I never expected to be singly responsible for dooming all of us!”

“Carter, I keep telling you, this isn’t your fault.”

“Who’s responsible for Dakara falling vulnerable to the free Jaffa and now to Anubis? I brought the Replicators here!”

“Carter, I already-”

“Who’s responsible for the modification made to the gate to enable Anubis to carry out his plan?

“Ba’al, not you.”

“ _I’m_ responsible for necessitating it to take out the Replicators. I asked Ba’al myself to do it!”

“Carter, Anubis is half ascended. He could have done that anyway.”

“We don’t know that!” she cried. “We handed Anubis the idea on a plate. And then I recommend that the Jaffa leave the weapon-“

“Carter! Would you just stop already!” he barked, waving his hands to cut her off. “The Jaffa had already made their choice before your suggestion, and anyway it’s done. For all we know this could have been Anubis’ long-term game plan anyway. We’ll never know, and it doesn’t matter now!”

There was a ringing silence, and she could feel herself panting, exasperated from the effort of her outburst. She locked eyes with him, and as her anger started to abate, a sense of shame crept over her. The General had been kind enough to invite her over. He didn’t deserve to be shouted at by her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here in your house, yelling at you like this.”

“It’s okay. It’s been a rough week.”

She couldn’t help laugh at the incredible understatement.

“It’s been a rough few years.”

“Yeah, it has.”

A silence fell between them as they recalled the past few years. Losing Daniel, the General’s capture by Ba’al. Then there were her own close brushes with death- at Nirrti’s hands, the entity, the Prometheus, the drone...

”I think about all the sacrifices we’ve made. All the people we’ve lost. All the suffering we’ve been through. Aren’t you angry it has to end like this, too? Like, what was the point of everything we’ve done?”

“Carter, look, I’m not trying to de-legitimize your feelings, but you’re upset about your Dad. You’re gonna see things more negatively.”

“Don’t you have regrets?” she asked, interrupting his comment on her emotional state. It didn’t matter to her that he was right.

“Of course I have… _some_ ,” he said, with a pained look in his eyes, “but we weren’t wrong to put up the fight that we have- that we still _are_.”

“I regret always trying so hard to be the model, professional soldier all the time and put duty and the planet first before my own wants. You were right all along. I was too obsessed with my work to have a life.”

“Carter, I don’t know-”

“I did as you said,” she continued on unabated. “I did as the Air Force expected me to do- I moved on, I went and tried to get a damn life with someone else, and tried to kid myself into thinking I could be happy. But I can't, and here I am at the end of it in your house, and I still after everything can’t tell you how I feel.”

“Sam-”

“But you’re right in what you said before, anyway. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Of course it matters. Tell me, Sam,” he said, drawing closer to her, his gaze intense and serious.

“How can I? Nothing’s changed! Nothing _ever_ changes! We take out one bad guy and a worse one shows up! There’s no end! And at the end of the day- of the fucking _world_ you’re still my CO!” she yelled, her temper flaring up again.

She watched as he sighed, looking pensive, before saying, “Sam, if, or rather, _when_ , Anubis wipes us all out, there won't be an Air Force anymore. There won’t be duty to put first. And there won’t be any more damn rules and regs.”

“So what are you saying?” She asked with bated breath.

“I’m saying that I’m not gonna tell you to marry someone else this time.”

“Jack, please, for the love of god would you just tell me straight, for once?” It wasn’t his fault he didn’t remember their conversation on the cargo ship, but what would it take for him to actually ever give her a real answer? 

The pause lengthened as he shifted his stance, expression hard to read, and she started to worry she had misunderstood his cues. “Look, if you don’t feel the same, fine, but-”

“Sam,” he cut her off firmly. When had he broached so close to her? Suddenly he grabbed for her hand, and still shaking from her earlier rage, she had to settle her other arm on the counter beside her to re-balance herself. “I’m sorry I had to always push you away, Sam. You know the war and our careers were always bigger than us. I couldn’t give you what you deserved, Sam.”

“And now?” she asked quietly, barely able to breathe.

“And now...” he said as he took her other hand off the counter and spun her to face him fully, pulling her closer. “Now, I’m gonna do this,” and he pressed into her, pushing her back against the counter as he captured her lips with his own in a hot and passionate kiss. His tongue darted wildly into her mouth, invading her senses, and she melted and reveled in the feel of him roaming his hands through her hair, down her back, and up inside the baggy sweatshirt she was wearing. Neither flinched when the bottle of whiskey got knocked off the surface, smashing on the floor, each too absorbed in the feel of the other to notice or care. Sam’s body burned with such an intense need for him, feverishly wrapping her fingers in his hair, pulling him to her, devouring him with her own tongue. Trapped between him and the surface behind her, she could feel her hips unconsciously flex and press into his hardness, immediately rewarding her with a deep moan from him mid-kiss. She felt his hands sweep from running along her spine, round to her front, cupping each of her breasts through her thin cotton bra, rubbing his thumbs over each nipple. The sensation was almost excruciating, it made her back arch, her aching core thrust forwards into him again, desperate for more contact. In one, swift movement she lifted up the beige sweatshirt she’d been wearing up and over her head, allowing it to drop to the side as she immediately reached down to undo his jeans button and pushed down at the tight waistband. As she did so, she felt him pinch at both her nipples, sending lightning bolts of pleasure down her entire body. “Oh god, Jack,” she gasped involuntarily, and she broke the kiss, the pleasure too intense. “Tell me what you want, Sam,” he growled into her neck, continuing his assault on her nipples, before peeling her breasts free from her bra, reaching down to suckle on one while still teasing the other. She answered him by deftly slipping a hand down his underpants, clutching his hard length, while simultaneously using her other hand to reach up and grasp his jaw, pulling him back up to look right at her. “I want this,” she breathed hard, and she gripped his hot erection tightly. “I want you. All of you. Now.”

“You always did have the best plans,” he said with a mischievous grin, as he kicked off his pants and pulled her towards the bedroom.

Her dinner may have laid forgotten on the table, but hours later, Sam was feeling more satiated and full than she had her entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far!  
> I have to say this chapter was the hardest to write. I found it difficult to thread (pun intended) Sam's outbursts together and the story ended up a lot angstier with more swear words than I had anticipated. 
> 
> We're not done with Threads yet, more to come soon!


	7. Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pack your toothbrushes campers, you’re in for some real tooth-rotting fluff (but not before the almost end of the world)!

It was two in the morning, but the pair were still awake, snuggled in bed, talking. They had decided that if this was to be their last- and only- night together, that they would do their best to stay up all night and make the most of it.

“I tried so hard to move on and let you go, Jack,” she said, lying on her side and stroking his jaw with her free hand. “But no matter what, I just couldn’t help being completely in love with you.”

She was rewarded with a sweet kiss, his newly-growing stubble rubbing roughly against her chin.

“I love you too, Sam,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Hah! You said it!” she cried, pulling back triumphantly. “You finally said it!”

“Huh?” he said, looking dazed with confused.

“That you love me!”

“Yup. Always,” he said tenderly and full of sincerity, and she nestled into his embrace, snuggling under the sheets with him before a nagging question came to her.

“When did you first know?”

“That I love you?” 

“Mmmm,” she replied, pulling back from the hug to stare into his chocolate eyes, twinkling in the reflection of the bedside lamp.

“Hmm, I’m not sure exactly. Maybe when that twin of yours came through the mirror with Kowalsky that time? She might have planted the idea in my head.”

“You kissed her,” she recalled, jealously. He'd done it in front of Hammond, no less. That had certainly been awkward.

“Yeah, but it didn't really mean anything to me. I was only comforting her. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love, you know?”

“I guess I can understand that,” she said quietly. If the circumstances had been reversed, she pondered that perhaps she would have done the same. She readied herself to voice that thought, but he spoke up again first.

“Actually, no, wait. I think it was before that,” and he suddenly broke into a large grin. “Remember when I found you naked on that table in Hathor’s fake SGC? That was hot. Like, ‘oh boy I’m falling for my Second,’ _hot_.”

“Seriously, then?!” she asked incredulously.

“Hmm, maybe...” he trailed off, and she saw that his eyes had turned dark, and a mischievous look had appeared on his face. Suddenly she felt an insistent poking on the side of her leg.

“Jack, are you hard _again_?” she asked disbelieving. They’d already had sex four times; the third time had been in the shower- which they had really needed by then.

“It’s just my side arm, remember?” he said cheekily, as he began grinding himself against her thigh, smearing the remains of his last ejaculate on her.

“I swear, if Reynolds calls us in and I can’t even mount my bike to go in, I’m blaming you.”

“Well, luckily for you, you happen to be on good terms with the person in charge. I am The Man, you know.”

“Yep, you’re the man for me,” she replied, grinning, and taking hold of his length, she began guiding him into her more than slick folds.

“Hey! You know how I feel about cliches like that,” he said, removing her hand from his penis and rolling her onto her back suddenly, dipping his length in and out teasingly at her entrance. “I think some punishment might be in order for that level of cheesiness…,” he rumbled, bending down to nip at her lip.

“Bring it on, flyboy,” she purred, before crying out in pleasure as he abruptly sheathed himself inside her in one swift movement.

\----

Later she opened her eyes, confused at first as to where she was. She didn’t recognize the curtains through which the morning sun was now streaming, and it wasn’t until she smelled the delicious male scent of the presence next to her that she realised she was in the General’s- no, _Jack’s_ bed. She rolled over to take in the sight of him, curled up and fast asleep, face mostly buried under the bedsheets. Just visible over the top of his shoulder were the red digital numbers of his alarm clock, which read 09:21.

“Oh, shit, Jack, we fell asleep! Wake up! I gotta leave soon.”

“Mummy, I don’t wanna go to school today,” came a boyish moan from under the covers.

“If you get up now, you can join me in the shower…” she offered teasingly. That worked. He was up in an instant, following the sound of her giggle into the en suite bathroom.

After both had managed to wash off last night’s sweat and various offending juices, she realised she’d forgotten to take the still sauce-stained and now soggy clothes out to dry last night. Thinking how they’d been the same clothes she’d worn when she’d faced the heartbreak and embarrassment showing up the last time here, and how they’d been the same clothes when she’d heard her father only had hours to live, she decided they weren’t worth salvaging anymore, She chucked them, choosing instead to forage around the house to pick up yesterday’s borrowed clothes that had been scattered haphazardly around various rooms.

Following a very lingering and enjoyable kiss at the front door, she stopped quickly by her house to get changed into her own clothes on her way to the house that Pete had planned to buy for them.  
Usually she would have switched from her bike to her car to meet him- Pete had never liked her riding her bike; another red flag she should have seen, she thought- but today she put that thought aside, smiling at the memory of why she felt so sore, straddling the seat.

The break-up went as well as could be imagined, she surmised. Awkward, of course, but at least it had been over quicker than she’d expected. And as she sped on her bike towards Cheyenne Mountain, she felt the shackles of weight that had been around her neck for _months_ open and fall away, trailing away behind her, leaving her lighter and happier than ever. She felt energized from the relief and also the incredible euphoria from her night shared with Jack. She didn’t know what she would be able to do, but she was ready to fight Anubis. Ready to put up a fight for a chance at having a life and a future with Jack. 

Arriving at the mountain, she signed in, parked her bike in the VIP area next to Jack’s truck and hopped in the elevator, heading for the locker room to change.

As she made to pull off her blue sweater she was startled by the sudden eruption of the base’s sirens.

_”Unauthorised incoming wormhole!”_

She hastened to pull on her green BDUs and tie her boots, trying not to wince at the stiffness of her leg muscles as she bent down.

 _”Colonel Carter to the Briefing Room,”_ came Sergeant Harriman’s voice over the PA as she rode the elevator down to Level 28.

The doors barely open, she leapt out the elevator, sprinted through the corridor, knocking a couple of personnel aside along the way, and raced up the spiral staircase to find Teal’c already mid-conversation with Jack.

“The rebel fleet guarding Dakara has fallen to the forces of Anubis. Bra'tac and the remaining rebel ships will not arrive in time. Anubis now controls the weapon.”

“Well, then we find the biggest damn nuke we can and we shove it right through the gate. Now.”

“Anubis will certainly have the gate shielded. The nuke will not arrive in one piece.”

Her mind finally free of the stress of Pete and all the grief she’d been carrying, a solution came easily to her. The weapon could only be used by gate. They could block that by dialing out first. She mentally kicked herself for not thinking of the tactic earlier.

“If we can dial the Alpha site we may be able to prevent the weapon from connecting a wormhole to either planet. It may only buy us the thirty-eight minutes that the gate-”

“Go, go, just go,” he commanded, and she scrambled back down the staircase to get the word to the Sergeant to dial the gate.

She felt relief as the chevrons lit up and the gate spun into action. They’d soon be protected. Even if Anubis detonated the weapon, at least the Tau’ri would live on. Would Anubis even know they’d survived? Would he have a way of seeing how many gates he was dialing simultaneously? Would it show if there were any that couldn’t lock? At least her idea could buy them thirty-eight minutes at a time, she thought. She made a mental note that they use her speed-dialling program next window.

“Wait a minute, that's not me,” said Harriman, looking surprised.

“What?” 

Dread plunged into her as she saw the “Incoming wormhole” message appear on the monitor. It couldn’t be! Were they too late?!

The iris closed automatically, but she knew it would be futile.

“That's not going to stop the energy from the weapon,” she stated sadly, as Jack climbed down the staircase.

“If it is the weapon.” 

Jack O’Neill, ever the optimist, she thought weakly. But optimism wasn't going to save them today.

The sound of the vortex could be heard as the gate connected, and the back wall danced with the blue light of the wormhole.

“No iris codes,” Harriman announced.

“We’re too late,” she announced, deflated. Fuck.

“Self-destruct.” The ultimate last-resort plan.

“That's not going to destroy the gate, and theoretically there's only a remote chance it would disengage an active incoming-”

“Carter!” he shouted, screwing his eyes to shut down her contradiction and their eyes locked. They had to do this. Sacrifice themselves in one final act of duty for the sake of the planet. Seven billion lives riding on the slimmest of chance that they could shut off the gate by blowing themselves along with the mountain. “Carter,” he commanded again, more gently this time. 

Last night was all they’d ever have. Of course the universe would strip her of her happy ending, she thought bitterly as she reluctantly obeyed his command, quickly drawing up the window to input her security code and initiate the self-destruct. 

Twenty seconds on the clock. Twenty seconds to live. The figures were ticking down the number of breaths she had left; the final number of beats her heart would ever give. 

As the timer hit ten, she shuffled towards the General, discreetly reaching to take his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“No regrets, Sam,” she heard him whisper softly.

“No regrets, Jack,” she whispered back, not quite believing her own words, and allowed herself to gaze at his handsome, pained face one last time. Tearing her eyes away, she watched as the clock reached three, two, one, and she screwed her eyes and clenched his hand unconsciously, instinctively bracing herself against the incoming explosion… which didn’t come. 

She opened her eyes to see that to her complete astonishment, the numbers had inexplicably frozen. She ripped her hand out of the General’s grasp just as the wormhole disengaged.

“What’s going on?”

“I don't know, it must be some kind of… system malfunction,” offered the Sergeant.

“That's impossible,” she said. The system’s self-destruct feature was completely fool-proof. She’d seen the programming herself.

“Shut it off,” barked Jack.

She was more than happy to obey his order this time. Keying in her code one more time, she punched enter and huffed a sigh of relief. She didn’t know how, but they were alive. The universe had granted her mercy, after all.

—

“Daniel, next time you descend could you remember to descend your glowy attire with you?”

“Very funny, Jack,” said Daniel, adjusting the hospital gown he was wearing.

“What happened with you, anyway?”

“Ah you know, same old, same old. I died, Oma did her thing, you know,” he said, waving his arms up and wiggling his fingers to demonstrate his ascension.

“That just never gets old does it?” Then she saw him turn to her, elbowing her upper arm. “See Carter? Told you old Spacemonkey would come waltzing right back,” and she couldn’t help give an eye-roll. Of course he would have to throw in an ‘I told you so’.

“What is ‘waltzing’?” asked Bra’tac, looking perplexed.

“It is a formal Tau’ri form of dance in which two people holding each other move around a large room together,” replied Teal’c, and Sam struggled to contain a giggle at Bra’tac’s look of complete bewilderment. What he must think of the General, even after all these years of knowing him, she didn’t know.

“Aaanyway,” interrupted Daniel. “What did I miss?”

She and Jack exchanged looks. She decided he'd let him answer first. She needed all her focus to suppress the giddy urge to jump up and down and shout that Jack loved her and how happy she was.

“Oh you know, same old, same old,” the General replied cooly, repeating Daniel’s phrase from earlier.

“The Goa'uld System Lords’ reign is over and the Jaffa are finally free!” Bra’tac voiced triumphantly, his cracked, aged face beaming. Sam saw as he seemed to de-age half a century before her eyes at his joy.

“Really? Wow! Congratulations!!”

“Indeed it is a victory I almost never believed we would live to see.” And Bra'tac and Teal'c nodded to each other. She was so genuinely happy for them, and for their people.

“Dad and I defeated the Replicators,” she said, finally deciding to chime in, continuing the group’s answer to Daniel's initial question.

“Wow, fantastic!”

“But then he died…” she said quietly. She hadn't wanted to ruin the celebratory mood that had befallen them, but she thought Daniel would rather hear from her than later from the nurses.

“Jacob died?” he asked, sounding shocked.

She nodded her confirmation.

“Oh my god! And Selmak?”

“Yeah, memorial service is on Tuesday.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you, Sam,” he said, looking genuinely sorrowful.

“It’s okay. The General was,” she confessed, throwing him a wan smile, and then turning to throw a warm look of appreciation at Jack. She could see Daniel in the corner of her vision cock his eyebrows as he looked between both her and Jack, as though noticing for the first time the less than usual distance between them. She felt her cheeks redden, and a growing smile accidentally slipped out of her lips. 

“Oh crap, wait, how long was i gone for? Did I miss the wedding?”

At the word, ‘wedding’, she felt her cheeks redden even further, mortified at the reminder of how close she'd come to losing Jack forever.

“Urm, you were gone a week and a half, and, actually, I called things off with Pete.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’m not.”

“I just mean, I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you.”

She felt the burn of Jack’s eyes on her, and she couldn't help give in to the temptation to turn and meet his gaze again, exchanging a smile with him.

“I wouldn’t say that,” she said, now blushing furiously.

“And on that note,” Jack said suddenly in a sing-song voice, “I have a phone call to make, if you’ll all excuse me,” and he gave a polite head nod to Bra’tac, threw her an extravagant and obvious wink, and left the infirmary.

“Urm, what was that?” Daniel said to her, looking confused.

“Err, actually I need to make a phone call, too,” she said, thinking of her brother and how he’d have to cancel his flights here, and she too left, escaping the questioning faces of Teal’c, Daniel and even Bra'tac.

—-

“General, Daniel’s confirmed that Anubis is well and truly taken care of this time for good. Oma stepped in and stopped him herself.”

“He remembers his time from being ascended?”

“Yeah, he said he was only half-ascended or something. Actually, you’ll have to wait for his full report, I’m not sure exactly. Anyway, that’s it. You got my email from earlier with my resignation letter, right? War’s over, mission complete. Job's done, Sir, and so am I.”

“Jack, I’ll hand it to the President, but I can’t guarantee he’ll let you retire-“

“All due respect to you, Sir, but if he rejects my resignation you can go tell him to bite my sweet ass. You of all people know how much I’ve contributed, how much I’ve sacrificed, how many times I’ve literally lost my life fighting this damn war,” he yelled bitterly down the phone.

“I know, Jack.”

“I deserve out. I’ve earned it. And you know what leaving the Air Force would mean for me and C-,” he hesitated, giving a sigh. “You know.”

“Would this perhaps be related to a certain Colonel under your command?” He could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“Yes, Sir, yes it would. And you should know I’m ready to fight for her. She’s crazy enough to feel the same way for me after all this time, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting her go, George.”

“I hear you, son. I’ll do what I can on my end.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

\----

Jack was scooched up on the couch, shoulder leaning into hers, both wrapped under his old quilted blanket, quietly watching the dancing of the roaring fire before them.

“I called Cassie,” she said, breaking the silence.

“Hey! I thought I said phones were banned until the guys were on their way to join us.” Trust her to cheat the rules, he thought. “The whole point of this vacation is to get you as far away from work and your techno-gadgets.“

“I still can’t believe you wouldn’t let me even take a look at that ZPM,“ she huffed. She certainly hadn’t been too happy that he’d made her hand over the power device to the other geeks, sending her home to pack instead.

“Was it worth it though?” he asked, already anticipating her answer.

“To come here, just the two of us? Definitely.” 

Content with her answer that she would choose his cabin over her doohickeys, he kissed her deeply, savouring her taste of beer and something oh so uniquely Sam as he darted his own tongue to meet hers; her touch making him feel warmer than the radiating hearth in front of them.

“You were saying?” he asked teasingly, pulling back from the kiss.

“Huh?” God she was beautiful all dazed and so in love with him. He loved having the ability to stop that beautiful brilliant brain of hers in its tracks with a single kiss.

“Cassie?”

“Oh, right!” she said in recollection, and he couldn’t help laugh at the image of her brain rebooting. “She said, ‘It’s about time!’ about us and apologized about our fight and everything. We’re gonna meet up in Las Vegas and go on a girl’s night out when I move to Nevada.”

“Sounds awesome, as long as you don’t end up getting crazy drunk and marrying some stranger.”

“Hey! There’s no way that’s happening. The only man I want to marry is- well, you...” she said, trailing off and suddenly looking rather like a deer in headlights before blushing furiously.

He took a second to process the shock of her admission, before making up his mind.

“Hold that thought, Sam, in fact- don’t move an inch,” he said, removing the blanket and getting up.

“Urm, is that an order?” she asked quietly.

“Well, I still outrank you even if you’re out of my chain of command now, so yes, it is.”

“Yes, Sir,” she shouted after him, grinning. 

>>>POV change<<<

She heard him dash out the room and placed the sound of the floorboards creaking as coming from the master bedroom.

As she waited, she clutched the beer bottle she’d been nursing tightly in one hand, and pulled the blanket with her other to her racing heart, trying to calm her nerves.

“Close your eyes,” she heard him call from behind her after a short while, and she instantly obeyed, hearing him pad softly around the sofa, and sensing him stop right in front of her.

Her heart hammered in anticipation of what she thought he might be planning. She couldn’t help grin as she waited in the darkness for his instruction.

She felt him take the almost-finished beer bottle from her hand, hearing it clunk as he placed it onto the table to her left, then jumped slightly as he took both of her hands into his. 

“Sam, open your eyes,” he said softly. 

She immediately fluttered them open, instantly finding him to be kneeling on the floor in front of her, face framed by the glowing fire behind him, dark chocolate eyes alight with passion.

“Sam, you don’t know how much it means to me that you’re here, in my cabin," he began, and she didn't think she'd ever, in eight years, seen him look at her so intensely. "I remember my grandparents and my dad building it, I even helped a bit even though I was only five,” he chuckled. “I have so many happy memories growing up and coming here every summer. We'd go fishing, star-watch, and my Grandpa would take me boar hunting. And then I used to bring Charlie here, and he loved doing those things, too,” and she gave his hands a squeeze, hoping to convey how much it meant to her that he was allowing himself to be so vulnerable with her. “This place has always been my retreat. Somewhere happy I can come when it all gets a bit too much- out there, you know?”  
She knew precisely, having fled herself a year ago. But she remained silent, not wanting to break the moment. She gave a nod, prompting him to go on, and she felt him give her own hands a squeeze back.

“I don’t have any blood relatives left to bring here anymore, but I still want to continue to make happy memories here. I hope it’s not too late for me to be a family, with you Sam.” Her breath hitched at the power of his expression. There was not a shred of the military officer that he was in sight. This was all coming purely from Jack. Then her heart stopped as she saw him shift his position to prop up a single knee- which gave a quick creak in protest- as he let go of one of her hands to reach into his pocket with his right, revealing a small, black box.

She couldn’t help bring both her hands to her face and gasp, was this really happening? She didn’t know whether her heart was going to burst or whether she was going to faint from joy.

“You asked me when I first fell in love with you, and honestly I don’t know, but cheesy as it sounds, it might have been when we first met,” and she smiled at the memory of being the feisty, young Captain he’d first known. “I walked into that boardroom empty. I had nothing to live for; losing Charlie still hurt so much, but right from the start all I know is you made me feel again,” and she gave his hand another squeeze. “You've always had this energy and youth and curiosity about you, Sam and it was just infectious," and she couldn't help but let a tear escape at his words and honesty. "Working with you, hell, just knowing you, made me happy, even though I couldn’t be with you. I’m not only goddamned lucky to even still be alive at this point after everything we’ve been through,” and a memory of losing Janet and thinking she’d lost him in that same firefight flashed before her eyes, “but I’m so insanely lucky that you feel the same way for me back,” and she nodded silently, putting all her strength into not bursting into tears while trying to etch this moment into her brain forever. ”I don’t want to risk losing you again, Sam. I don’t want to be forced to watch you be with anyone else. I want to share the rest of my life with you. I want you to be my wife. Marry me, Samantha.” 

And she watched him open the ring box, revealing a pale blue-jeweled silver ring. 

The floodgates burst at the sight and she dissolved into tears, shouting, “Yes! Yes, of course!” as he removed the ring from the box and slid it onto her shaking finger. Then she threw herself into his arms, wrapping herself around him, before pulling back to kiss him, making his cheeks wet with her tears.

“Glad you didn’t take two weeks to decide this time,” he joked.

“What?! I cannot believe you just said that!” she retorted, punching him roughly on the arm. Did he really have to bring up Pete and spoil the moment?!

“And I can’t believe you just agreed to be my wife! You must be crazy to want to marry an old fart like me,” he joked.

“You’re not old, Jack! And anyway, you’re the one who wants to marry me- I thought you hate scientists!”

“Yeah, I still do, but I decided a long time ago to make an exception for you.”

“I’m glad you did,” she said fondly.

She looked down to survey the ring now fitted snugly round her ring finger. It had a pale, blue centre jewel, and was surrounded by a diamond halo of- wait- nine inter-spaced small stones?

“Jack, is this supposed to be a stargate?”

“Yeah, sure you betcha,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh my god! Wait, when did you get this?!”

“Well, I’m not gonna lie, I had it custom-made, obviously. It’s Aquamarine, thought it would look like the event horizon, you know, and well, actually I’d kind of been holding onto it a while…” he confessed, looking abashed.

“How long?” she asked, stunned at the idea that he’d been thinking of proposing to her for a long time.

“Actually I got it after that time I was forced to kill you. You know, when that alien put you in the computer.”

“You got this _four years ago_?!” she asked disbelieving.

“Yeah,” he said, scratching at his chin, looking uncomfortable.

“And you had it this whole time? Even when you were telling me to move on and get engaged to someone else?”

He shrugged, before saying, “I just thought if there was an opportunity, like if one of us was dying, or I dunno. It was probably stupid getting it but-”

“Nope, it’s perfect," she said, cutting him off and kissing him again. "Thank you. I love you, Jack O’Neill.”

“I love you too, future Mrs Jack O’Neill.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid I can't write smushy wedding scenes, so I think this brings us to pretty much the end of my story! Thank you so, so much to all who have read this! It's been quite the journey to write, my longest ever and what I feel is my angstiest story yet.
> 
> My muse tells me the last chapter must be a cute epilogue, because this story needs a bit more fluff. And hey, we could all probably use a bit more fluff in our lives :)


	8. Looking Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue. 2014.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Just to refresh your memories, Major Erin Gant was the name of the pilot on the Prometheus, briefly previously mentioned in chapter 3.

“What time are Will and Erin getting here tomorrow?” Jack asked as he crossed the short distance from the cabin to the pond, awkwardly trying to carry two fishing poles while balancing a couple of beers between his fingers.

“They said they’ll probably get here after mid-afternoon, so in time for dinner,” she replied, heaving the cooler box, knowing it would still be empty after another day of zero catches.

“Good job I brought those extra steaks, ‘ey?” he said with a wink as he set down the poles on the dry ground.

“Yeah,” she mused, setting down the box, lost in thought over the last time she’d seen Will. “You know, I forgot to tell you, but I was there when Will turned down taking over the Hammond from me. You should have seen the look on General Davis’ face when he handed in his resignation instead!”

“Hah, I’ll bet! I must say, though, there’s something to be said for retiring to be with your old Second,” he said, planting a chaste kiss on her lips. “After you, General,” he said, motioning for her to seat herself on the deck first, before handing her one of the bottles he was still holding.

“Jack, would you stop calling me that?”

“I can’t help it, General Carter has such a good ring to it.”

“Hey, don’t forget, it’s General Carter- _O’Neill_ , though I wish we could come out and tell everyone that.”

“Yeah, I definitely like the sound of that even better. Hey, maybe now that I’m _finally_ retired you can actually tell everyone and have your name plate updated.”

“Consider it done.” They had, after all, secretly married nine years ago just before his move to Washington, and had decided to keep things quiet since, not wanting to endanger their careers or risk being accused of favouritism when she’d had to return under his chain. They hadn’t expected that Jack would end up staying at Homeworld Command for so long, though at least she’d been able to move semi-permanently to Washington to be with him after returning from Atlantis, three years into their marriage.

“Sweet. You know, it meant a lot to me that my last act in service was promoting you.”

She smiled at the recollection of the quiet ceremony in Washington. She’d been thrilled beyond words that Jack had secretly arranged for the old team to attend the surprise promotion ceremony- Cam, Daniel, Vala, and surprisingly even the long-absent Teal’c had managed to make the trip to see her. It had meant the world that they had all been able to gather in one place after all their years apart.

“I can’t wait to get to wear your old pins. I hope I do them proud.” 

“Of that I have no doubt. My stars’ll fly better on you, and I know the SGC’ll be in the best hands with you in charge.”

“Hopefully it’ll be an easy assignment before I can join you in retirement.”

“Hah! Don’t jinx it! That’s what Hammond said- god rest his soul- and look what happened to him!”

“Yeah, well, I can’t help but feel things are finally actually going to stay peaceful this time. We beat the Goa’uld, the Replicators, the Ori, the Wraith, Destiny’s back, _and_ the Lucian Alliance are finally in disarray. I’m done with fighting,” she proclaimed. And when he didn’t reply, she nestled into the deck chair, breathing in the stillness and fresh air, and enjoyed the peaceful moment.

Just as she was about to cast her first line of the day, however, she was distracted by the thundering of footsteps and the slamming open of the cabin door.

“Uh-oh, guess you spoke too soon,” Jack muttered bemusedly.

“Dad!! Jacob threw all my homework books on the floor and one of them got ripped!” cried the young girl, who had burst out of the entrance, looking very disgruntled.

“Jake, what did Mummy say about not touching your sister’s school stuff?” Jack called at the little blonde boy trundling behind his older sister. “You have your own colouring pages.”

“But I wanna wite!” Jacob George yelled, jumping up and down, kicking up a cloud of dry dirt.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I locked two bickering delegates from Amora in a room together when you and SG-1 went missing?” Jack said quietly to her.

“You always did have a unique sense of diplomacy,” she said, raising her eyebrows in amusement at him.

“I know, right, and I look forward to assisting the new leader of the SGC in an unofficial civilian-husband capacity. Call me anytime, yeah?”

“You know I’m expecting things to stay quiet.”

“I’d settle for phone sex, then,” he whispered flirtatiously into her ear, but before she could react, a large splash pulled her attention away, and she heard Jack yell, “Jake! I told you not to throw rocks in the pond, you’ll scare away the fish!”

“Bye bye, fish!” he shrieked, throwing another, even larger, rock into the now-rippling water.

“Daddy, Mummy told me there are no fish in this pond,” said Grace Janet, looking puzzled.

“Blasphemy! How could you say that, Sam?!” he pouted, throwing a mock-glaring look at her, before looking back at his daughter. “Sweetie, there are lots of fish in our pond, but what you gotta understand is that they’re sneaky, pesky ninja fish.” 

Rolling her eyes in amusement at her husband as he launched into an explanation of how to catch his imaginary fish, she grabbed Jake, looking like he was on the verge of throwing himself into the pond instead of the giant brick he’d somehow found, and sat him on her knee at the pondside, securing the brick and her beer bottle away from his reach. 

She watched in silence as Grace, dwarfed by the fishing pole in her hands, deftly cast her line, looking as determined as her father was to prove the existence of his finned friends in the pond. The glee and unrestrained look of complete joy in Jack’s eyes at his daughter’s casting ability and their shared hobby made her heart swell. Nothing had made her happier than being able to fulfill Jack’s wish to make happy family memories here at his cabin. No, she mentally corrected herself. It was _their_ cabin now. Smiling at the thought, she recalled the five wars she’d been involved in and had come through to get here. It had been a hard fight. There had been times when she’d doubted herself, and the universe, even. And there had certainly been times when she’d doubted she even deserved the kind of happiness she’d found with Jack. 

_”Don’t look back.”_

Now, here, surrounded by love and laughter, she had no regrets. Just as he’d told her to do long ago, she’d never need to look back.

...

“Dad! Dad! I got a bite!”

...

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! It's over! I'm really sad it's done, but I'm happy they got their deserved happy ending. I also wanted to sneak in a bit of happiness for Will, too, since he had been a help for Sam all the way back in chapter 3.
> 
> Also, I'm not sure who it was who jokingly mentioned phone sex in the comment section of a fic I read over Christmas- I couldn't for the life of me find it again- but credit to them for inspiring that line.


End file.
